Stop, please. These potatoes don't fit right! Nothing does and I have had it up to here with the pounding of a rock. Just cease all of these fibres and be done with the washing. If you don't, then I will smash in your face with a loaded bookcase. I'm scared, I'm scared, I'm scared of the floor. I don't want to feel the slush and the slish of the world on my damned face any longer! I want to go to sleep. I want to sleep on a marshmallow, mountain range and sing a song of a comforting environment. I do not want to be in this crappy perspective; eating rakes and making small talk with the widow child on the moon. I want to scale the laughter and sit on the throne of titans. But you keep me here in this view. This view of smacking cars and weird birds. I dislike you. You kept me as a slave too long in these eyes and now I want out! NOW!