Probably one of the last things I will post on here...It is a long prose piece, scattered with scientific terms (I am a biology major after all...at least I can use my degree somehow...). If you are confused by a term, just ask. The whole thing is a description of how something can catch your attention, give you hope, consume you, then leave you with nothing. Enjoy it, I enjoyed writing it. Peace out.

?I?ll Open The Can, You Show Me the Worms.?

A curious phenomenon exhumes my soul from the dirges of the mundane and the doldrums of despair. Only a Tuesday morning?s madness could render a slow burning gaze into an inferno, and transmutate a ?hello? into a parable of paradoxical maybes. Upon such simple interjections, the cellular wasteland of by being is spared its apoptotic ending and replenished by a rushing rainfall of hopeful hormones and epinephrine day dreams. The sympathetic spider that dangles on an intricate web-work of neural time bombs and cleverly overt subliminal messages weaves a swan song to boredom and listlessness. An envoi of biblical blasphemy and cautionary throw a ways which lays proof to Hell?s temptable path, paved with moral intent but erotic fantasies. Only a Friday night?s prophecy could scream such sinful infidelities and shape softly spoken paragraphs into sensual allegories of her little black dress. Lace by lace unwound the double helices holding her genetic decency together along a revealed and naked backbone. Organic sweat and a sea of salt bond attractions condense as a meiotic release spills and then seeps along. Dwelling beneath the fault lines of my skull, a fevered cerebellum inflicts a cytotoxic red tide of frenetic tranquility, deeply settling to kill me. The roots tangled about my fingertips are then plucked, in a single file line, to be studied for topography and character, and when there is nothing left, I?ll stare into an anemic iris and ask, ?Who the hell am I??

Thomas Christopher. 9.6.6.