I was gonna write something here, just to fill up space.

But I've felt this niggling need to be active like, all day long.

My unrequited urge to pant and sweat demands that I fulfill my unholy need for blueberries and kiwi by running down to the store, whereupon I will stagger about like unto a man possessed, calling out in craven tones for the citrus so desperately desired.

I saw the best minds of my generation destroyed by madness, starving hysterical naked, dragging themselves through the negro streets at dawn looking for an angry fix OF DELICIOUS KIWI.

Disjointed? Hardly.