Impasse To Contentment Part 1

Just me and mine shadow doth blog passivity, the path of least resistance oh my dog, an emphatic YES, a legitimately valid reason and rhyme to flog yours truly (figurative emasculation), thee catchword to hog immediate attention, see above named poem title the best idea to expound upon, while attempting creative juices to jog all mein kampf, I felt like a bump on a log please... don't be hesitant to identify me as a nog one aging long haired pencil neck geek never reached maturity forever a pollywog. More clearly, plainly and succinctly one sniveling poor excuse for masculinity, I continually experience unrepentant (unforgivable) humility, hence lame justification Matthew Scott sought adultery, which unwise choice attempted (pun intended) to fill a void sexual propensity linkedin with precepts attributed to Sigmund Freud, though skepticism skirts barenaked lady hardcore psychoanalysis downplayed or Oedipus complex shrugged off (heavier imposition versus Atlas) fails to bridge any mettle alloyed within me psyche. Absent healthy teenage dating experiences, think tryst I yearned, trended then regretted handy dandy wrist took rat tick antics subsequently, and compromised spawning prurient dalliances, hence understandably missed (until death do me part) doting upon then young daughters, rightfully thee eldest one (born 12/22/1996) still pissed at primal, gonadal, and brutal predilections now... finding very little reason to exist matter of fact I dreamt (earlier today June twenty seventh two thousand and twenty), the gist regarding harming self