I now neatly put you into a demographic so that I can sell you more self-storage. Its all so selfish... I feed you off-the-shelf rotten shellfish. Put them into boxes and leave them alone. Cardboard mixed with abalone. Mercury levels are rising. Your heart is as chrome as squid ink. I may look invisible but my chromatophores are dilated. Objectify sensation while mentally master-debating yourself. Ad homonyms a la sopa. Efface my fundamental hope.
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