"my life was all balls"

my fingers are trembling, they're itching at the idea, they have not been so excited since glam rock. they want to write that email more than i do, i am more of a pacifist from middle up, must be my hands that are logistically or geographically challenged, they haven't figured out which half they belong to or it could even be some evil bone, just like in igor. so yeah, whatever it is, it's begging my better judgment to write the email, to write it and let it all out cause keeping it in is a bit like a hedgehog inside out, all the stingy ends stay inside. but my pacifist half wants to leave it all behind, be wise, forgive or forget but in an odd way it seems to be forfeiting. or has the feeling it does. my fingers must have gone to my head.

i won't do it.
i am now more a "je m'en fiche"ist than i am a misanthrope.

lasa-i sa moara prosti, pufi.