Sundays In Sanctuary: Pacific Slump

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In a second feature of subpar, artistic journalism, OATH brings you our horribly titled, Sundays In Sanctuary.
Detest.

I don’t need hashtags photos of food, feigned habits, another #optoutside, quaint coffee, boisterous beer, lackluster lazy dazezzz, or another share from something you only associate with.

I need grit. Grime. Gristle.

That danger you only feel at the top of a bone breaker or the bottom of the liver shaker.

I need adrenaline. Vitamin D in copious doses.

I need nothing short of life lived, skin scratched, and amour amused.

I need to peel back the proverbial magnum on societal norm so I can push forward a positive motion of succulent nature.

Let’s live for the life we have and not the one we’re told to have.