engineering club

it's not christmas. it's really the heat of summer right now.

rewind. rewind the clock. it's the heat of summer duuuuuude. it's not christmas.

if it was really christmas. there would be a christmas tree. there would be...maybe. fireworks.

it's not christmas. it's the very spikiest and angriest of summers.

why is it the worst of summers. everything is gone.

all your fortune is gone.

owwwwww. i can't keep telling myself that all my fortune is gone.

it's the harshest hot wind of summer. the driest of desert storms.

nothing's there. maybe you can weasel yourself into a plan for just working your own heiney out of this place....

maybe you can keep trying to weasel yourself out of this place.....but now weveryone needs an explanation.

uh. everyone needs some sort of magazine subscription to anything under the sun.

&we actually don't know where all the people went.

while we're already scratching out our hair and skin from many pains of adjustment????

we're scratching off an icky scab from acidic stomach pain.

we're scratching off an icky pimple....from acerbic heat rash.

i want to bump my head into the wall also.

the words and signs are really not there.

but we don't know what direction to look anymore.

we don't know what direction to look.

it's not there, it's not here, it's not up, it' not down.

we just want help in the very least......

and just guessing absolutely anything at all.

a hangnail. it's gotten really massive. then it's got no word to it. a completely new concept or something.

but we want just another breath of cool wind.

maybe ice on a head scar.

maybe no.............skin boils in your bum when you're sleeping on the floor.

that would be greeeeeeeeaaaaaaat.