Everyday Yeah one-thousand four-hundred and six

Yeah lived on klatonism. He fed on the system of its doctrine. It was a natural mode of belief. He had never read its philosophy. He only curled into its laws of reason through logic and common sense. A man at the supermarket tried to shake Yeah’s hand and talk about the klaton fundamentals, but Yeah said, “All we need is a breakfast table. Do not let the morning light touch it. The stain will darken and rot.” Yeah bought eggs, cheese, artichokes, yogurt, applesauce, and crackers. Yeah fed himself k-ism-pills after his dinner. He only ate them because they were leftover from a party. The shape of them was fulfilling. He worried sometimes that he would not survive their oval shape, but they dissolved and carried him to his natural klaton being. This klaton being was interrupted with sandwich talk. He did not enjoy the sandwich talk. The sandwich talk reminded him of the reason why he didn’t go to the sandwich location. The food would be okay. The conversation would shift to thoughts of fucking. Many parties involved would be uncomfortable. Yeah would have to eat more than one k-ism. He would lose his klaton thoughts. The sandwich thoughts would rest in a stale mode on the back of his tongue.