Playskool bucket

Lap at the filthy puddles mangy dogs. The heart of the nation will never be sheared with the stake, thus ending the endless feeding. The pain of the human condition nourishes the psyche, gluttons feast and feast, not quelling the appetite, but causing it to grow exponentially. It is not hunger in the true sense that drives the beast but desire to rule, to conquer, to sit upon a throne of skulls as the howls of the lesser inhabitants soothe our ears. Such behavior, while unsavory to the philosophers, satisfies the calls of the economists, generals and moonshiners. Suicide is not killing one's own body but one's own soul, and as such, we knock our own sandcastle down before the tide can reach it as playtime is nearly over and the shadows have begun to fall across the beach.