'Worthless chaff, who are you to teach the wind to leap or touch the broken ears of barley?'
My cat leaves the gall bladders of mice in the hall. I just found one then, dried and brittle, green and billeous. It crackled as I picked it up.
I threw it in the toilet, then pissed on it, holding my dick with the same fingers I'd used to hold that other disguarded, shrunken organ.
That kind of thing really doesn't bother me. It floated when I tried to flush. That doesn't bother me either. It'll reabsorb it's weight in moisture and sink, sink, sink.
I agree that we're just gathering stories, have been since we were young, living retrospectively. It's all very un-zen. It's because we hate society and we're cowards. I am going to put my balls on the line and do something brave. Rebel! Canada maybe, turn up, get a job straight away, see what happens if I just throw it all up in the air and let the wind take it, worthless chaff.
"Jook them and blindside them, let the shits fall where they may."
And with that, we made a cup of tea.