The return of the sentence.

I think I'm just about regaining my ability to string a comprehensible sentence together without pausing to admire a tree, but the immaculacy of thought itself is far from being achieved. There's still a passive film of mist all over the insides, and no nosy, toothy, bristly instrument can help clear it, but I'm sure shaking it off will gradually get easier now that I've identified acknowledged it as alien.
But once that's off, I'm gonna need some sunshine and some reli spray for the back.Which is fine, reminds me I've still got a spine.

Priyanka

doo dull

Maybe some colour?