good_morning raze every morning, long before anyone with any sense is awake, these bitches and bastards are busy barking at something. i don't know what any of them look like. i've never seen the faces of most of the people they belong to. i only know the sound they make. they might as well be the same animal split in three or six or however many of them there are, choking out the same reverberating noise in morse code clusters that translate to the most banal greeting there is. i would be grateful to die having lost the will to remember that dishonest croak. cats might cut you open on a bad day, but they won't stir you from sleep with lies howled in a language they're sure only they can understand. and then there are the dogs they keep chained in their back yards. 221114 what's it to you? who go blather from