I, say you, trust in we, please don't, at least not when a little misanthropy is sticking out of my shirt, the human element is a judgement on a self who feels billiard balled across the green stuff into pockets that seem designed by living devils in the upstairs land. Capital crimes are prosecuted against the one who is forced to sit through a rant, therefore, judge as harshly as my eyes do so that I might confine my complaints to the fire and stone.