Collecting compulsive thoughts in mind until they start leaking through nostrils and mouth. Packed down the throat, the stomach and bowels making the body morbidly obese. The air is poison and not collectible, escapes the hand and leaks through glass jars. But this is not obsessive, it is a lifestyle. This is not a disorder, it is a lifestyle. This is not compulsive, it is a lifestyle. Rooms start to grow. Organically feeding from dunes of old porcelain dolls and we can't hear them scream behind the carcasses of flat cats piled up on top of each other like persian rugs. Flat and empty. Our home is the only void that's filled. We've got a Grand Canyon of disgust towards mankind inside and need an exorcist to deal with this. Collecting compulsive thoughts in mind until they start leaking through nostrils and mouth.

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