"You know who else liked to clean up? Hitler; the physical manifestation of the archetypical monster inside all of us, bucko.

Niche once said, am I'm paraphrasing here: when you stare into the monster, you'll find the monster staring back at you.

And that's no joke, you could very well say that the monster is the metaphysical lobster who pops bendodiazapine's like a three year old with a sugar addiction.

And you know what happens then? You become the embodiment of Peter Pan, the boy who never grows up, and that's you Elmo, you're at least fifty years old, and you refuse to clean up your bedroom."

incoherent sobbing