Archive for February 2021


Comfy and cool: an ideal posture for inviting discourse from a loquacious friend and their pantechnic knowledge base.

Easygoing: suavely handling a wild ride is either a dzhigit or myself in the vogue known as ‘sit’.

Welcoming: leave behind the bows and curtsies of deference because respect derives from equality and equality requires open frames.

Impressions: that which perdures is neither style nor substance, but, rather, the availability of a ready ear on an any chair. ; )


G’day, Mr. Cinnamon Stick. I see you have already helped yourself to a mug of tea. Milking my hospitality for all it is worth, no? Ha! Just joshing you, mate. Swizzle on.

Ah, you know the drink is ready for sips when the water has turned turbid by way of spice and nice.

In fact, some of your kin tend to only soak for a quick stir, which is not enough time to exchange some flavourful notes. Why are they so cheeseparing? I appreciate that you feel comfortable settling in for a soothingly untimed bath.

Multipurposed as spoon, straw, and sweetener, your are the secret mitigator for both sauceboxes and flaming foxes.

Ah, Mr. Bitter Bark, indeed I would love to be the biscuit that both compliments and compliments your morning steam, but, alas, cheese-*pairing* recommends not a savory stromboli situated in a seeping sauna of spiffy scents.

So, as not to cause a stir, sir, I wish you a pleasant swim—for saucers may be separate, but they still support their cup of company for a cheerful win. ; )


The story of how the blossoms reach the sky will certainly be a megillah even without excerpts regarding a boy being bamboozled into buying bouncy beans.

Neither can be seen petals peddling toward the stars nor stalk’s dashpot pulling back on the pursuit—as reach stretches during blinks.

Then, there was the evening’s dream which suggested it was actually the sky inching closer to the stationary station, a retcon which reduced slow and steady to “The End” already.

Now, as lids arise, so do earthly florals hoping to meet their celestial kin—even if light years remain unimaginable and details of drive’s design are found only in unwritten chapters. ; )


“That which constitutes us reflects upon others an image that may not define us, but certainly is uniquely of us,” uttered the craftivist to their self.

“Feelings are fathoming for a way to show persons that they are both their syntax and their semantics,” minded the heart to the mind.

“Just as a state frumious emits auras broodingly dark, kindly colours of character relay a welcoming mark,” pondered the pensive person.

“If those who support phonocentrism believe the subtleties implied by tone and inflection are inimitable, then could ‘photocentrism’ imply that neither can the source of a life’s character be cloned?” inquired the curious cogitation.

“Why, hullo, wonderfully bright refractions of light,” exclaims the new bloom.

“Oh, hello to you too, vivid view of me-of-you,” replies the just-born visage. ; )


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