mimic raze all the pictures i take of you are pointillist paintings i'd sooner burn than frame. i don't know why i bother. it isn't enough for you to pilfer what isn't yours. you've started imitating birds of prey in an act of emotional terrorism. trying to frighten the ones i love into fleeing from their second home. it's a good thing you lucked into the gift of mimicry. because the sounds you make when you're being yourself aren't pretty to listen to at all. 221208 what's it to you? who go blather from