No way to get around it, when the mood comes on me I must come or go, or do something to use it all up, to make it go away, my version of fantasy football or baseball,making up for what won't happen for real, she always inspires me in that way and it won't go away until I do it for myself, I don't always have to look at those things she sent me, just a memory of her will cause the uproar, giving rise to what might otherwise lay dormant, yet inspired I must retire to a private place, to do what I need to do to get it over with, though in Truth I never fully recover, even after the release, always something lingers like an old wound that throbs with the weather, and at times like these, I please myself and do it twice knowing there is no way to get around it
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