Mildewed Melange

Alright, cleansing time.

The hodgepodge of my thoughts decaying in the unexpressed, cobwebbed corner of my brain must now recieve utterance, so prepare to partake of a strange concoction. The first rag in the mildewing pile:

-I hearken to the cries of legumes with much less sympathy than the bleats of sheep.

And now the second, and so forth. I am feeling more clean already.

-I am not alone. My problems are so sickeningly similar with others' problems that I can't even enjoy them satisfactorily.

-A lichen-licked tree stands solitary, glanced upon only by sporadic rays of sunlight and now: me.
-She is such an underhanded glutton. Didn't you know? She pretends virtue but her passions are virulent. She's dirty, and what's worse: her facade bespeaks cleanliness. If you're dirty, own it. Don't hide the sand with murky water. Wash it.
-Buzzing lips are not always the best kind. Sometimes they make you want to eat things you normally wouldn't let yourself. Maybe all of the time. I don't know. I've only had buzzing lips once.
-Peanut butter m&ms are addictive. I am addicted. It's not a good thing.
-Biology essays are not necessarily blog material. Perhaps they would be, however, if they discussed the licentiousness of some plants. Yes, plant sex is definitely blog-worthy. Not my blog though, but I suppose it's too late.
-I feel unwell. And it's not just physical. I am grinning too much. Now grimacing at my over-grinning. Now I am tugging at the knot in my afore-whooping stomach, trying to pull it free. It's a fleshy knot, a hard, packed down one. And I don't know if it's placebo, physical, or emotional.