# not even left with nonthing a nameless feeling approximately akin to we don't know what hey all in a calm collected non confused yet weirdly ordinary type manner luckily often only lasts five to ten minutes then drive by the cars or broken wings by mr mr kicks starts to play during the long trudge back home from depressing concrete portsmouth in the thin urinating rain of endland silently observing and appreciating slick black chromium reflecting darkness realize no trains arrive at this station until five in morning pull those neo noir pulp rhyme fiction collars up against the cold and damp and start the long existential hike back to your insane workaholic parent's desiccated house cube not a home // [[republic of bob contents | imaginary pastime republic of bob]]