random blog number one

Today I noticed I have a rash on my arm. It itched. My rash shines out on my arm like the scar on Harry Potter’s forehead, marking me like the yellow Stars of David Hitler put on Jews arms or .the white cloaks of kill joy Klansmen. It burns me with the intensity of the fires of mount doom swirling upon my arm in a molten plethora of pain. My boredom at writing this blog grows congruent to that of an unchecked malignant tumor, feasting on mitosis and devouring its surroundings and the essence of the human body. The bump on my left buttock ascertained through a wild swing of a bat protrudes like the horn on a rhino or a unicorn, emphasizing and belittling its surrounding features. And finally, the tiredness I embody throughout this endeavor forces, nay dragoons me, to retire to the sweet solace achieved through slumber.