Infighting

Take this: for nothing here’s chiming, vibrating and all this vainglory and self-deprecating just goads at the tender parts, gets irritating. You’ll make no advance advocating monopoly on any vocabulary; even cacophony needs the needle to make its point properly. It’s true that you find yourself fey and bewitching, yet always you feel that the itch that you’re scratching’s soothed better by far by bravadoes of bitching. The off-pat flyting, back-biting and threnody you render and throw up, at will, won’t remedy the rot of your serenading, lute-laden wannabe. You can’t see a barrier without pushing through it; it’s a poor pearl of pathos you don’t disintuit and you now give a doing when once you’d just do it. You want my advice? Here it is: try removing the self from your argument - gluts of self-loving just pudding the gut of whatever you’re proving. That’s it on the chin and I’m sure you can take it, but that shadow you’re boxing is me, so please break it gently. Best wishes, I hope that you make it.