How funny could you be without me? Clear adhesive apoxy atop worrisome catacomb endeavors. I am marbled by defeatist attitudes. You?
Need that ant colony to vacate my sleeping mattress. Small ones, medium ones and other sized. Regular insecticide does not work very well. Sure, it's strong and irritates but only temporarily.
Perhaps the infestation is a living metaphor. A metaphor for my need to stop procrastinating and start completing my masterworks. I don't know how many more moments are available but this moment is indeed unique and important. Just like melted caramel lies.
Get the bullet to disown our presidential influence. Money fucks us over as policy manipulates we the people further and further.
Feeling absolute; uncertain. As sure as sure as sure as a turkey meat pot pie with huge chunks of knowledge. Didn't I mention before, ages ago, about how I had once been confused by certain passages in the pathos outlined biblical pretention?
We feed on dementia just as much as ham & cheese sandwiches without mayo. Oh I do know what I'm typing here! It is you, you that has no flipping idea how gravity sticks each individual to every other individual!
It is within fictional romance novels that we begin to plunder the teachings of our predecessors. Identity is another metaphoric derivative.
Discuss the accidental accident that is our nation. We are the (thee) successors of a generation of slave traders and owners. They used to beat 'em with big long dirtied sticks and poles. Some of 'em died, most of 'em cried and begged for mercy. But oh let's not forget how sweet and juicy and delicious the apples, melons and corn turned out.
Thank, thanks. Great, grateful. Abnormalcy, normalcy. Ease, dis-ease.
In the deli I contemplated beat poetry. Welcomed the possibility that I may have been a prophet in another life. Then I purchased a pound of sharp cheddar cheese.