I am a chorus of one. I hear voices, and one is not totally sane. These bones are disintegrating inside of me. My bones are a ladder propping me up in three dimensions. (Props to my bones!) Ever look in the mirror and turn your face a little bit to the side and realize that you look way different in profile and worry about who you've been this whole time? And ever get weirded out that that babe who looks great in photographs looks really strange in real life. And if you do too? Weird like...shit she is more beautiful in two dimensions! Well worry no more. Five years ago, five years ago, five years ago I was really lonely one day and I started to have trouble differentiating. I'm having trouble adjusting to less gravity here. EEHHHHHHH. My red blood cells are even more round than before. Did you think things could be more round than a circle? Well, frankly, heh heh, frankly...an event occurred which led to another event. Don't believe what you read on the internet about Mars. I will find my own true love. Earth, my friends, has an atmosphere. You know what I could go for right now? You know what I could really go for? Heh heh. Push through me with your magic gemstone. I've been in bed for a very long time. Come visit me. The space time continuum has been successfully bent so just fucking get over here. You think I don't know? You think I don't know that I'm a temporal object capable of being stretched so fully I lose my core essence? You think I can't make my own toast? Does humanity have to be just before its end? Project Pegasus. Just google it. I'm not going to say anything more. I've turned this cunt into a hotspot. I love my breasts. When you love me it feels like you're grabbing me and pulling me close in a hug which at first you resist. What the fuck do you think this is a lecture on sustainability on Mars? I've been on Mars a long fucking time. Like I said, Project Pegasus. The children. And then you cling to me and hold me close and then I move so I'm on top so the ground will hit you first, we're falling. And I'll be saved but then will feel selfish and so then I'll move to the side so the left half of my body and the right half of your body will be crushed on impact which makes us both feel bad because why both die? But why both die is a good question which I'd love to answer like what the fuck but ugh so classic Romeo and Juliet bullshit. I just realized that our love is so overdone like that toast. I need a new toaster. But I'm being pulled at a quick pace down and down and I am on the bottom and will first die which makes you feel like shit so we stop time, real casually, and step away and tell anecdotal reports on a Friday afternoon which bored us both but kept us busy until finally we were ready to discuss the problem: we were facing a fear of intimacy of a sudden urge to be love and the death of a kind: the death of no impact.