Three steps to heaven, twelve steps to hell

some of them look a little like the res­istor bits of elec­tronic res­ist­ors. per­haps if you were chew­ing them you’d have more of a problem…

(yes, this is a rub­bish com­ment, but the pink goo looks rather appetising…)

It will. They will. Return.

but something’s only a Prob­lem if it intefere’s with your daily life, right?

I wish you could take some of mine, they’re doing my head in.

I’m sure yours will return though, every­one needs quiet times.…

I see your twelve spec­tac­u­lar steps to hell and dam­na­tion … but I don’t see no three steps to heaven …

watch it, when they’ve been away for a while they come back with new tricks…

Hmm, if you haven’t star­ted dis­solv­ing bus tick­ets under your tongue, I fear you’re yet to reach rock bottom.

i’m sorry you’ve got with­drawal symptoms

if its any con­sol­a­tion — the ramaging words have been hold­ing all night raves round mine

per­haps we should start up W.A.D — word addicts annoymous?

xx

strike all the above
seems i’ve lost the abil­ity to spell as well

ramaging — rampaging

WAA — Word Addicts Annoymous

Miles Away — I’m cur­rently receiv­ing Clas­sic FM on my teeth. Make of that what you will.

Andre — I hope so. I am bank­ing on a dra­matic sequel.

Mee­sha — Sadly, per­haps wor­ry­ingly, not hav­ing the words does indeed inter­fere with my daily life. I should get out more, I know.

Isa­belle — Send them on, by all means. The address is at the bot­tom of the page (probably).

The Lamb — The three steps are mostly invis­ible because I am twead­ing vewwy vewwy softly, like an ickle mouse.

Peach — I hope they will have learned how to juggle. Or bal­ance items of cut­lery on parts of their anatomy.

Gold­fish — Bus tick­ets? No. Whole buses? Yes. Most definitely.

Annie — I am find­ing the idea of Word Raves, fea­tur­ing words wav­ing fluor­es­cent glow sticks in the air and shout­ing techno!techno!techno!techno!, hugely appealing.

As a word addict, I get kind of dizzy and pal­pit­at­ing when I find a bright new one I haven’t tried yet and ramaging has just giv­ing me a won­der­ful rush.

I am bliss­fullllly enjoy­ing the word “rub­bish”. We don’t have a word like it.…in the US.

I see know prob­lem here. Word addic­tion is very common.

Con­sidered nor­mal where I come from actually.

I do not appre­ci­ate you insinu­at­ing that I have a prob­lem because I like words.

Can I have a pretty pill? The one that says do not swallow.

You seem to have a prob­lem with time is the dis­tor­ted mir­ror a reflec­tion of your­self and not the mir­ror.
I will write a short story just for you unre­li­able witness.

Essence Of Time

Tick tock tick­ety tock why wont time stop or take you back a year or two maybe even ten or more

You see it through a key­hole small it may be but if you peer in long enough you will visu­al­ise it becomes clear.

Ignor­ance is cruel ony later years will tell the cruel fate of hell what has become of your old self

Will no one listen does no one hear your pleas or the tick tick­ing of your inner cell they can all go to hell

The black poin­ted hands seem to be taunt­ing you, mock­ing you hell even laugh­ing at you
TICK TOCK god damd that bloody clock.

Now dark­ness has gone and the light­ness rises and shines on your ter­ror sub­sides. It will come and go no doubt just like the shroud that makes up the cloud.