Chapped Lips, Let Me Be Your Chap Stick

In the harmony of open doors or in wide open spaces, there is an elastic band theory that can be applied to the actions and counteractions of you and I. Within these actions there are a series of thoughts that are all triggered by the irrelevant link I make to everything and to you, everything and to you. In the silent music, the faint silent music, that nobody ever knows where it is coming from, in the closed off places, that make you want to escape to them as often as they make you fear the thought of them, while thinking in the harmony of open doors or in wide open spaces these places, these little small silent spaces, that only fit maybe two or two and a half people in them suddenly seem wrong. But in the madness of the badness you cant help but want to hear them explode under the passionate patch work of two and perhaps two and a half people making things warm, but Amelia Gray said it herself, "Just because you make it warm, doesn't make it yours." that is exactly where on the spectrum of these spaces, no matter how comforting or not, they have become, I have become something that makes them but doesn’t keep them, doesn’t tend to them often, and cant have a say in them, yet I attend to them like a boy scout for every house meeting, wanting to collect all the things they have to offer. You've got chapped lips, let me your chap stick. Slick Speech.