quenten

Hello summer, I feel ugly and stupid and it's far too hot here. Sweating bullets till the sunscreen melts off and the shades stick to my nose. Makeup useless, nice clothes useless. Just run in and hide until autumn. Maybe you'll get something done when everything is orange and old and dying. Maybe the hoary calm of winter will help you progress, but months ago weren't you depressed and shivering and wishing for warmth?

Not even Bob Dylan could think of a rhyme for "orange." That's 'cause it's Satan's color -- the color of fire -- and we all know how Satan adores throwing off rhyme schemes.

Rhyming is one of the tools of the Seraphim. Love of above. Get it? Get it?

Here's a better question. Why are so many good people my age depressed?