This unstoppable force expands within me, this repressed human nature mocks me with it’s immanence, grinning at me as it grows and grows, threatening to overwhelm my ability to subdue it. Lose control and go on automatic, let the inclinations of this nature take hold of you. Let it than gush out, ironically repulsing the objects of it’s desire, than leaving you no more than a pile of burnt flesh on the ground, hidden by a conveniently placed shadow cast from the tree you were so carelessly rooted to. Manual mode tries your luck as it suffocates even your most desperate words with a barely transparent, utterly overwritten layer of metaphorical filth. Drown in it for all I care. Where’s that reset button anyway? For all the hypocritical pretending to maintain the utmost concern for their fellow man, lost are such sentiments in them for one who loses even the ability to harbor concern enough for himself. Publish such thoughts and roll away in all the finality of your utmost submission. Than we’ll really have a laugh. Perhaps cut short, but a laugh all the same.