Electric fallout races its way through the circuitry of my veins like a sinister Edenic calamity,
whilst those damp stone walls of bourgeois estates remind me of seductive servant girls.
Black Death is creeping through the avenues of our hilarity, and reveals that our plight is like Dutch cheese – full of holes.
I have changed the resistor and liaised with the stalker of the night over matters which are worthy to remain untold.
I recognise your scent.

Your pre-frontal cortex is delectably oral amidst this maze of psychological violence.
Oh, mistress of certain uncertainty, I cannot articulate the essence of ontology, as human language is inadequate. But, you truly capture the flow of irregularity in this mass mockery of societal fabric.
Therefore, I simply appeal to our mutual and primitive impulses. Let us be rough, despite the misguided assumptions of those who claim to have affiliation.
I like old school choppers, because they are not polished.

Shall we drown together in deep lagoons of forensic cognitions, my seductress of medieval echelons?
As your mouth is already full, I strongly recommend that you masticate that which you initially intended to ingest.
We could become spellbound by the moon. What do you think my Vedic chant of austere arrhythmias?
I suggest that we simply need to interact without reserve amidst this toxicity of inhibition. The sound of the violin is hauntingly beautiful as it conveys literary intensity.

The road to hell is paved with good intentions, my acquaintance of sombre excellence.
So, please do not be deluded by expectations from particular designations and social strata.
As teardrops drip from ancient clouds above multigenerational transmissions, I can feel those Celtic waves of classical death which resound throughout our hollow shell of existence.
It is just like malignant optimism, don’t you think? Coitus is always permissible, but it is not always beneficial.
Therefore, board this aquatic bubble and follow the current downstream at your ludicrous peril, whilst intrapsychic processes drive the train off socio-cultural junctions.

The anatomical features of genitalia are magnetically captivating, especially whilst the Big Band delivers the message of social expression.
Can we please just reflect together, in this moment of awareness and tantric acceptance?
As we collaborate and address those matters which are characterised by opposing directions, we will find synthesis whilst classical music explodes with ejaculatory conductions within the heart of mediocrity and atrial abandonment.
Can we go somewhere quiet? Let us connect and complete this wonderful circuitry of tactile liberation.

Who is the law of this land of lunacy?
I have rubbed my nose in an upward direction and have arrived at no logical conclusions.
So, as we walk across this trestle of heightened vulnerability, I am reminded of gustatory uncertainties where monetary recompensations are the focus of subjective rock-bands.
I fully appreciate the various instruments as they perform in Aberdonian synchronicity.
How timeless are the cries of those from the depths of the abyss of unfathomable galaxies.

I love your curvaceous contours, whilst physiological precipitations calmly shoot their nectar across longitudinal and latitudinal expressions of ontology.
How seductive are your displayed features of blatant enticements.
I truly give thanks for your explicit revelations, where blatancy and discretion collide with dialectical icebergs.
So, my friend of uncertain deliberation, put it on the altar of sacrifice where botanical skies of elliptical infernos resound throughout the classical universe.
I love this revealing and scientific corridor of acknowledgement.