What are you waiting for
Here I lay, wasting on the final day of the month, a month that is supposed to be celebratory in nature. A month that opens with tricks and lies in the name of a gowk; then ends in an opposing fashion, as if by chance some form of Gregorian redemption. Truth is I found a month to beat any reigning champion Mr. November.
In a month that carried over a certain inamorata ambiguity, turned a snow white ball of zeal and tossed it from Mt Olympus. Never before have I endured such a twisting, spinning sensation.
Even before my arrival day I was given the role as the spouse Joseph. This immaculate news was bugging to the conscious as for the next five days I'd spend pouring my heart out to anyone on tap; all the while trying to reconnect to an intercepted call to Katz.
Though after those five excruciating days, any whispers of Jack and the Beanstalk were graciously sanctified, but only at the juvenile disclosure of felonious finger pointing.
To go into great depths in the matter at hand is far too premature, despite my truthful salaciousness.
The next crippling blow would fall just a fortnight later. A maple floor with two bruisers would throw a wrench on my fast break to the ending of the game.
Leading to my chanty febrility condition, and in attempt to prevent a decubitus ulcer I rode a Pony til the fervor reached her too, as an unbeknownst bleeding dried her up - and the hot water I found myself in resonated all too at home.
The conclusion of a cursed month does not come with any cerebral celebration, nay, as the exodus moves right into the remembrance of my dearly departed; The Jangus' best friend.
Not certain how much more I can Put-on, as I am running low on these Caps.