Adrenalin’s coat of softness obliviously
thickened and thinned under the clock’s uncompromising, panoptical gaze, which
sternly intended to determine the pace of To Do list abrasion with a zero
tolerance of the persistent, sweet call of breezy, luminous, child-like whimsy;
of foolish, naïve and deceptively detrimental whimsy; of soul sugar, with all
the ephemeral delight for now but with no societal nutrition for the future,
with a façade of goodness concealing a heart of decay, and with a necessity to
be exterminated.
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