“Frankly my dear, I don’t give a damn.”
equals
tbh bae idaf
Quicker? Yes. Same point? Meh.
I know you don’t care
but I’m the one typing. So listen.
If you don’t take the time to write the words
I’ll assume you don’t care.
irl, do you lawl?
I remember when fire was extravagant
mesmerizing
and not just how bomb ur seven dollar latte tastes fam.
Lit were the candles in the mansions where This novel was written. That poem was composed because the flickering of the candle in question gave way to shadows that caused the architect of those verses to question the very nature of his being. As a preserver of words, I find the deplorability of the common evolving vernacular to be entirely double un-good.
I suppose it tracks. Orwell called it. Fortunately, I’ll be a decomposed corpse obliterated to ash before humans start speaking explicitly in Acronyms. When I’m that mound of primordial dust. Throw me into a Western blowing wind that will take me to the sea. Where sirens sing with whales in a pitch that would bring nothing but reprieve from the steady decline of a race of creatures that does not deserve the earth as she is.