[cont.] one love to all of the creeps, all of the lovely bubbly fleets of troubling, hole shoveling, emotional tunnels of gold n’ verbose prose with limbs and heartbeats and dreams and worthwhile earthen goals, we all ghost when it goes, here’s a toast to the introvert’s who expressed it, got it all out before they were arrested, let me be clear—ficly was a necessity, bless it dear