i made a guestbook. it.s one of the dots. issac brok, you will be my fucking wordsmith yet. i miss everything right now. i miss breathing and having someone there to see it happening. the someone is you. i wanted to fall asleep eating your words. i wanted to wake up and have you my landscape. i like my machine. it means my everything. it means that clock-ticking can fuck itself, and kids wax and prod each other.s heads. the best mindfuck. i need a punch in the face please. and to you, i wanna say yr my thing.