Quick glance in this one man's stand, right out his diary, "Since they're quick to hire, these liars would never fire me, fiery, entirely, tire me by your coldness, but if you think competitive, negative kills your  boldness.", he exhibits explicit, rhythmic misogynistic flows, as he spits it, I wish it was just a ***** to whom composed, this exposed piece of ignorance, hindering to his facts, coming back to reality, galaxy now relaxed, where he's at is rather saddening, but happening because it's challenging, if you thought Aladdin was grabbing, tab bout this babbling with scrabbling, pencils that's meant for the work of art, though many of us scripted for beauty, we're truly parched, embarked, but limits would hit me and make me timid, jump into my written vision fearing the collisions, referred to his diary just by my actions taken, he may have had the truest piece of fate, humans' sake I'm debating.