I�m borrowing a literary device... Rorschach�s journal, May 13th. The banality of the people in this city is palpable. There�s been a sour taste in my mouth for weeks now, I finally know what it is. It�s humanity�s abhorrent nature traveling through the air and depositing itself firmly on my palate. Every time I swallow I can taste it, probably why food taste so terrible these days.

�Was offered Swedish love and French love... but not American love. American love; like Coke in green glass bottles... they don't make it anymore.�

The End