in existentialism, it's also called: "for lack of a better word", namely? : and the italics aesthetics; and that's hardly implying the thesaurus, it still remains a: "lack of a better word"; assuredly, half ambiguity, and half of laziness imparted, otherwise a loss of laziness, due to the quickened pace of concentrated vocabulary... a banshee vocab, than some mundane parliamentary corrective containment of: airs and socially-normative "pleasures"; existentialism proved one "thing" foremost: how to avoid the point of using a thesaurus, or thereof lack of a better word; and you can spot the disability of writers of fiction, for their certain use of words, sticks out, like an amputated limb.

and the second tier of the *pontius pilate "effect"?
the beelzebub effect?
i've stopped washing clean my hands
on the matter,
the water's gone, my hands have dried,
now i'm rubbing them with a joyful glee...
just like a fly, rubbing its extensions together,
i know that i'm about to delve into
the piece of **** that's western society,
i know that i'm about to rummage into
this overtly science-based liberation /
            glorification with all sorts of antis -
but i'm pretty sure you won't find
the nomad's songs from the album concentrated
album online...
        or steve wynn and the miracle 3's
...tick... tick... tick album...
regarding the nomad,
   well... new zealand is pretty hard to find...
brownie points on the guess points surpass.
a dialectical resolve is near impossible these days...
the subjective-objective dichotomy,
transient outside a dualism has crafted a sling-shot,
that's currently having a yoga lesson
in the most effective stretching poses,
implying churchill's V foremost...
my my, though,
how did pontius pilate ever become beelzebub,
in that wiping your hands clean
of the matter, was also a derivative of:
rubbing your hands with anticipation,
and a cheeky similitude of an ingressive smile:
i'll see to it, that things, rot,
my last supper, will be the last ask for the worth
of things to eat you might ask for; last.
   regurgitation of the forbidden fruit,
      for you to be tempted by,
  and of course, by description alone,
   the forbidden fruit, left, untouched,
                                                   via my gut:
you would not touch, via imitation of my
own concerns in method of digestion...
      will you taste this fruit, with me,
having touched it first? someone say,
that man is only worth his contraceptive will
upon seeing a sun-bathed body,
  with white turned copper... for some white
men grieve at feeling the african fold over bone
as being of sandpaper texture...
           excess of melanin, i presume;
well? oops.
              more mysterious is the fact that,
you can ask as many questions as you like,
but having done so, still be immune
to the ? "punctuation" mark...
            odd, isn't it,
               when grammar is hardly a worthwhile
mannerism,
      as it punctuation the hardly engaged with
diacritical focus, notably in english,
that doesn't enact the focus for such distinctions /
laws, being worth the orientation of
worthwhile "eccentricities".