Maybe it started when I was watching the photo paper in the developer come to life in a minute. It was like fast-forwarded film of flowers blooming in 4 seconds, the mind races and the story ends up here where the pondering leads to absent-mindedness. It's like taking a ride on a laser to the future then back again in a split-second. At once, the activated mind uses the assistance to fill-in, maybe in real-time, just what the fuck is going on. Kinda like thought compression down to Hallmark-like brevity. Makes sense now, hopefully, will still resonate when re-read along this life.

The distinct pleasure of the PMs and cannoids make the background dew-do-do-do manageable so that the holy crap! continues at a penthouse level. Her 'rolas have a first name, it's O-S-C. . . .