Panted and painted across the ever-aligning brick face. Tagged and tainting the natural order to fortify a child of nature and nurture (ideals and ideas). These heaved forth upheavals of unending circuitous majesty can form a facet of honor sand pride to swallow in a singular visual dose. You are the rooted veins of the better half of societal under-bellies. A masked marauder of the ordinary and plain sight. Unfold your forgeries and destinies upon the plain-Jane attire these cities were dressed in. Paint the town the color of whatever-the-fuck if only to stamp creation upon creation upon creation, etc. etc. Make us marvel with a whimsically wooed whisper of canvas. Daunt the atrocities and mundane life philosophies of the perilously forgettable. No tombstone necessary, life is a beautiful canary you nurtured and let fly. Oh universe, I wish I had THAT birds-eye view.