Sunday.
Another week rears its feisty head. Or wags its ever-in-motion tail.
It's called dogification.
The literary technique of applying dog-like characteristics to a person, place, object, or any other of the sort that is not, I repeat: NOT, a dog.
Yes, I'm odd.
Yes, I'm doing my lab report now. My choice, my consensus.
Yes, I'm listening to French music and pretending to understand it.
No, I am not crazy yet. But I'm slowly getting to that lovely destination. Trains need to carry on, yes? No. Yes. I don't know. How am I supposed to know?
I've got nothing to say, yet I'm speaking continuously.
So maybe once I've accumulated "worthy" speech, I'll share it.
Goodmorning, goodmorning.
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