Sometimes when the wind is alone it likes to make cyclones, that way it can't hurt anyone. The cyclones also keep it company but they are very abusive, and manipulate all that they come into contact with. This annoys both the land and the sea, who treat the air as a roaming infant.
John Cooper is an innocent man, he only strives to show the truth in things. The world is a stinking liar, and in a world of liars the humblest man of truth is the king of them all. This king of liars is met with hatred, but with red rocks blazing in the summer sun, and the promise of minty gardens green, to the knees we will drop. For even the simplest of creatures the truth will always lay atop the calm sea.
Thinking hurts, do not think. Scream for the winter instead, the snow has left us. The ringing inside my brains rattles my head and my vision vibrates, I get nauseous. The twelve stomachs I have gained recoil at the thought of what may come. Where has the winter gone, it is off in San Tropez, having sex with spring.
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