The tired man can look in the mirror with his bloodshot eyes just as the drunk can drink trough a straw as much as a bottle. The baby is growing inside the unwed mother earth and the family planning is about to be the hero. Window jumping is a sport the soul can play with its out of body experiences when the moon gets boring. The height is running away from the falling projection of the self I created today for the onlookers below who will pretend nothing happened. Conflict is the taxi of time. Torture is the medal of honor. But honor hasn't existed since the Nixon administration.