An Ode to Crunch, Or Crunchling’s Lament

He arrived, a gleam in his eyes; it betrayed, belied, yet cast all pretense aside. Setting forth, looking port; not right, though not wrong, adventure throngs among throngs overlong. Queued to queue their boxes emblazoned, they stand and they wait, mostly patient. Then he arrives, fully sated, to sate of them, that diverse gradient, that…

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why

i cannot for the life of me discern what exactly it is i am trying to say anymore–i have, time and time again, deleted and rewritten this post. it has been two hours now, and i refuse to allow myself to rebuff this post’s submission any further. i have toyed with the idea of simply…

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