In the strength of consciousness, which people say belongs to someone drunk before the fifties isn't so much a stream as a rapid trickle that makes me wonder how many mores are actually known.You know by Shakespeare's post-apocalyptic cover of Ronald Reagan's The Last of Us, which was set in 1910, I do understand why Shakespeare is dead for one thing, and I still, with consciousness, really want this flesh.The world's had millions of years to do the things that amaze me and are simple to you. I don't know where to start so I just dive in.I'm looking for something I can regret and spend some time trying to forget. I don't feel like talking much today.There's something pretty about the rain if you're clinically insane. If you're lonely, if you're mad, or if you're sad.There's something funny about the mess I have made out of ourselves. We really ought to try to see the brighter side.There's something pretty about us all. There's something pretty about us all. There's something pretty about us all.And just sometimes we cannot see. I try to remind you every day. It's the least I can do after what you've done to me.I know the things I could not do out on a sheet to give to you. But when you held it up, the page was clear.This is the greatest trick I've seen. You understand so much more than me. I'd really like to hear your version of everything.There's something pretty about us all. There's something pretty about us all. There's something pretty about us all.And just sometimes we cannot see. I try to remind you every day. It's the least I can do after what you've done to me.I know the things I could not do out on a sheet to give to you. But when you held it up, the page was clear.