mannerisms containing grace and beauty vanquish when conquering the internet's cruel anguish. feeding sins with apples that bloomed in the evening of february to survive in a fast world unreal to the underachieving.
in solitude, her essence blooms despite her bruised virtuous soul that screams her damnation. in isolation, the substance of his being thrives in the waiting room of circumstances that bring prosperity.
reprise a revolution for the modern age of devils, let them build e-tombs for the sensational forgotten. encourage the death of language for the birth of a new culture where the muted can still share words for the world to publicise.
beware of trolls lingering between the lines of text fonts for a new plague has occurred with no treatment found to cure. the heat of a blush from "i love you" absent from the screen, the streets are a little too quiet for the comfort of elders.
do not be frightful for a generation made from a future a past had conceived. do not be hopeful for the undoing of the internet. believe in amor fati, my dear, for this was inevitable.