Vision is an inexplicable experience, where perception blends with distant intellect and galactic rationalism.
As we sit together and lay aside our preconceptions, we both know that it will melt in the fifth year.
As we engage in this beautiful marathon and paste ontology across wasteful walls of graffiti, can we now please die?
Oh ancient soul, I am intrigued by your mysterious aura, as your flickering flame has made contact with my ectoplasmic and innermost hatred.
Nationalism is not yet lost, and everything is said to be well.
It is said to be our mistake for not yet having the realisation.
We can only prevent decay for a limited period of time.
It’s just like an inadequate reprimand, don’t you think?