When there's dysphoria in the neighborhood, don't waste time hanging crepe banners to remedy it. It nuzzles up to those thoughts about shadow boxing with a flashlight. Remember the old "the only thing worse than living like a saint is living with one"? Your dys makes me piss. So correctly then, turn to the part of the 'hood that makes you happy.

Grappling is a one-time rescue from self-atrophizing. Relinquishing adventure for avoiding the need for future grapples is what's in place at the tip o' summer. It's like a faint rendering of No Shit, Sherlock when warding off the can't-get-there-from-here antic flashes.

Repeat facetimes soothes the expanded area making crunchtime OKtime. When you go with whatever comes up we'll deal with it it keeps the variance a no-sweat thing.