i love how the reaping of modern reward leaves octavius in peace from the hysterics of historians, known as augustus, apathetic, because the scold of such breadcrumbs know as rewards, are just that, breadcrumbs, foodstuff additives for rats that were ignoble enough to jump the ship, they were, ignoble to guise themselves in thinking the usage of language was idiotic enough for them to use it when using it sparingly, on a spare as ol' cockney had it. i watched ******* so many ways of speaking in order that all ways of speaking were sung, to sing is to have respect for all measures of the tongue, it does not mean to favour one, it means to accept all, it does mean intention to state a status quo but mean a status qua: it does not intend the state of things going to the same posit of where they are, but arable i statement asking for the state as being worth keeping. why then imagine so much but speak so little? why then speak so much but imagine so little? politics vice versus got in the way? shadowy patron of despotism swerved a legion of demonic shadows to sway you? was it a carcass that decided to rekindle life with puppets for a dynamism of the silken trade with stringed threads that swayed you to be kept noble of memory with the next kinship as entitled prior to me, prior to father, prior to my father's father? held sway it did with the nightmare relating, but you didn't: a nought's worth of a sarcasm in the night made more uncles for satiation of hybrids of insemination than it did relating cousin's mother (1) with cousin's father (2) to conclude the family tree reserved an inheritance of king solomon's mines for someone. then i hid my eyes into lazed lids of blink missing, and that was that... horror was more welcome than comedy with all genre choices freely apparent.