And so the time passes like a slug through molasses and the day keeps on and on the way you always wish it wouldn't. Pounding my feet in the stampede even though the cliff is looming. Can it really be that far away. It feels like forever since the shot went off but feeling forever is hard for mere mortals. The future is unnamed and untamed. Can I lasso the moon from a starship made of cardboard? So weak after week I cry myself to sleep.