Hard truths about soft core lives of joe next door

Yes, breezey time it is. Maybe we are to be weather vanes, bringing one another to watery knowledge in this desert, in this barren land, all dry and sandy and bone white from the torrential burning heat thrown off by sun's self-sustaining and unrelenting nuclear bombs exploding over and over above us, just out there a bit. Too close for comfort, really, if you ask me, but we're not afraid, even it is a bit uncomfortable. We all know it's there, just don't stare at it, and follow us to shade. To the dark. Don't be afraid. Hey, don't cry, it's all going to be all right, you just need to rest. You can have some of my shade, I'll scoot over.