An imminently strange cacophony of meandering narratives which almost exactly fail to make a sensical connection among the more logical neural connections of my gray matter. Ultimately, I'm left feeling as frustrated as Ceran Swisegood, and I don't really feel the urge to return to a deceptive mirage lingering above the red rock desert, supposedly located somewhere in Northern India. I bid a frustrated farewell to the 900 grandmothers.
