playhouse Soma Blather is home. Puddles of words and phrases parsed about in pointless pandering to people's passions and perplexities. But really, when pushed perchance, you perceive plastic panels, painted placemats, and can't see you've any mercy left to give anything in this world shape. Oh darling, are you trying to return? You can't ever be small again, I hope you realize. You simply won't fit inside the walls as neatly anymore. Stop trying to float on the ocean of infinity. With enough time, everything sinks here. 210313 what's it to you? who go blather from