Riddle me this, Adam West

Being around others is exhausting.
Being by yourself is draining.
Solve for x.

CRACK. 



Nod.

This show's overdue for a reboot.

Naval lint

The oceans are full of sailed ships.

You, 61° in Cleveland on January 30th, I hope you die of heat stroke.

Doing the right thing can be incredibly unfulfilling.

Each time I think I might want to make an actual friend, I thankfully remember that people are terribly overrated.

Responsibility [and X-Files reruns] keeps me from being a woodland hermit.

This post was paragraph after paragraph, surprisingly poetic -- not grandiloquent and moving, more easy flow rhyme-ish shit never there during actual tries.

Ergo, should turn discards into verse, or chuck this writing gig altogether.

Hey look, a shiny thing.

Magic 8-ball says

A stitch in time saves thousands

Let that mean whatever you wish. I just wanted some riffs. Wasn't I just here? My internal clock is broken. Chronometric fisticuffs. Blood sticking to guts sloshing in entrails. A pile of platters I don't feel like pontificating on. No thanks to waxing chortle on indubitable supervillain symbiosis.

In jet black meditation. Hand me that salvation, will ya?

Because I'm easily amused, or, we're all wasted

No, not that.

That.

I don't know about you, but zoning out & drawing variations of Eddie the 'ead on my folder senior year, meshing them together, I was pretty excited about that.