Statistically Stagnant

Yet, I surmise, I’m subjective. Selectively enclosed in a soft shell of a shrine I’ve studied for years–shuddering amongst the lies of myself and others.

Silence is suggestive, occasionally, and I surround myself with sorrowful shadows of past and present, salacious endeavors.

And, I still surmise, I’m sensationally objective . Serenading the symbols and symptoms which… statistically leave me single.

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