banal walrus scares the children.

The shocking revelation of peace through pious devotion is something that inside you wish existed, but you are not strong enough to let go of the power you get through jarring the minds of others in order to find respite from the pain of not knowing.  This is inversely proportional to the love that exhudes from your very existence and permeates every layer of the fabric of yourself (except you shirt).  This law is ancient and inexhuastable.  Idly you would like to get up killingly and soak in the pain that passes like a gentle wind through a trumpet of fate that indicates trauma and breaks with bonds of filial devotion while looking at girls with dotted underwear.

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