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Suppose getting into conversations with people isnʼt as easy as it might seem like from the outset, with all the society of words and everything in mind—and, of course, that machine of compatibility, circumstance and coincidence (old triple C, and heavy on that middle C) drawing people together...

Well, hello, dude. You toke?

What this guy sez.

Probably not the exact same original picture I cropped, but here all the same! It's The Blue Phantom by Wols, a piece of Art Informel, Lyrical Abstraction and the Tachisme movement. Another piece by the same artist, called Oui, oui, oui, which I use for my Discord profile.

That's high, man. Real cool though, fo sho. What kinda books do you read?

And then you're dead.

I second Daisie.

Entity, really, or Beings. Quite tongue in cheek, though.

Though I'm more concerned about said bodily dysfunctions. Imagine the horror!

I'm afraid high amounts of estrogen may simply lead to several bodily dysfunctions!

Well, I can't say much about that. I consider myself a postmodernist, an individualist or something like that—the only thing I can do is laugh at myself.

This is getting closer to the edge, isn't it?

This liquid society. . .

Indeed, this may as well be the catalyst to some unholy evil darkness. . .