Why be short in this short life - be melodious and speak in many riddles. 

Strive to scrunch their visages and furrow their furry and brown. 
Create wonder and marvel at their confusion when you ask someone to: 

“Replace the air within my compressed and very hot sand with some transparent lubrication disguised as once Cambodian cocoa beans.”

Succinctness has its place amongst those that I find quickly bore me - excite me, dammit! 

Let me exercise my inquisitiveness, please, I beg. 

Why be esay to precieve and spimle to unedrtsnad wehn sutff lkie tihs wkros jsut as wlel! 

Y’know? Be spontaneous and throw the rules in the trash, lemme taste’n smell that mind o’ yours. 

“Hey, I heard you got a new orange tabi cat! Did you name it something like Ginger or Citrus?” Brittany says.

“No Brittany, God, I would never do that. His name is Lord Ung’thatch, delver of the dozen demon pits and traverser of the twelve opposite of angel mountains,” I say, expertly utilizing perfect lung capacity and tonal breath control through proud, pursed lips. 

“Well, isn’t that… Those are the same things, right?” Brittany says.

“Jesus, Brittany, you bore me,” I exclaim not quietly, bellowing from deep within my chest and batting my eyes as if unattentive to the simplicity of Brittany’s vernacular.

Those are how these things go in my head, anyway. 

Unfortunately, succinctness goes hand-in-hand with social anxiety, so I tend to fail at my own desires.