A Life of Into and Out of

Into and out of is really what it is all about, placing things into, and taking things out of, containers or their special places. Life itself begins when the penis enters the vagina, and consequently a sperm cell enters the female's egg. The fetus is housed in the uterus, until it makes its exit 9 months painfully later. To maintain this life, food must be placed into the mouth, after taking it out of its wrapper or container and involuntary biological mechanisms digest and then push the food out minus the nutrients plus the stink into the toilet and out the ass. You get into bed, you get of bed, and then maybe into the shower. Why is it we are so quick to get into our clothes when done? We want to get out of our skins. Out the door now and into your car where you take a CD out and put another CD in. You pull into your parking spot, and get out of your car and go into work where you go into your office and get into and out of your chair whilst taking pencils from pencil holders and files from file cabinets and coffee from coffee pots. You go home and put more food into your mouth and get out of your clothes and into your pajamas and bed. You fall into sleep and out of reality. Tomorrow you start over, much the same, and the next day too. This until before you know it the shuffling and sorting stops and they put you six feet under into the cold carnivorous earth. This, of course, a no-brainer, your coffin, is your final container.