Jun 2010
I hate your movement, your tainted, remorseful, inhuman, abnormalities.
hemorrhage your finances on useless entities, such as a mind altering beverage, more than one, or please go on and drink yourself to death. I was almost so accurately close to the unconscious mind you engage in every 12 hours, but loosely, abruptly, and significantly, it was what humanity refers to as a “failed task”. To you things are practical, so spur of the moment, our impulses we had frequently left us in dismal. Ever on occasions, if I ever. Finding a soul doppel-ganged to yours, carbon copied, manufactured, identical traits, perfectly matched in sequence of personal qualities making me sink as far down as gravity could pull my main pumping *****, of course this is all anatomy. I laugh, although I should be rather pessimistic about that morning dawn, fogged, winter dawn. But what exactly is a joke without a punchline? A cell with no nucleus? a ******* house with no support beams? A band with no drums to keep everything counting, to keep everything in time? These things may no be able to survive without base, and you can find humor in everything life possesses, even after disaster. According to the most profound term of worship, the most known masked replica of “religion”, according to, this representative is god, the joke master. Look at your mentally impaired, speaking on a more serious level of course, I think things would ride smoothly if I had been blessed with autism. You see that type of mind state can put others at ease, they think so shrewdly that I feel sorry for them rather than the mental impaired. TO be gifted, to not give 12 ***** about media, politics, war, economy, and common global uproars. Thus if they do they know more than the presidential campaign combined into one single universal atom. What I’m getting at is are they the joke or are we?
hemorrhage your finances on useless entities, such as a mind altering beverage, more than one, or please go on and drink yourself to death. I was almost so accurately close to the unconscious mind you engage in every 12 hours, but loosely, abruptly, and significantly, it was what humanity refers to as a “failed task”. To you things are practical, so spur of the moment, our impulses we had frequently left us in dismal. Ever on occasions, if I ever. Finding a soul doppel-ganged to yours, carbon copied, manufactured, identical traits, perfectly matched in sequence of personal qualities making me sink as far down as gravity could pull my main pumping *****, of course this is all anatomy. I laugh, although I should be rather pessimistic about that morning dawn, fogged, winter dawn. But what exactly is a joke without a punchline? A cell with no nucleus? a ******* house with no support beams? A band with no drums to keep everything counting, to keep everything in time? These things may no be able to survive without base, and you can find humor in everything life possesses, even after disaster. According to the most profound term of worship, the most known masked replica of “religion”, according to, this representative is god, the joke master. Look at your mentally impaired, speaking on a more serious level of course, I think things would ride smoothly if I had been blessed with autism. You see that type of mind state can put others at ease, they think so shrewdly that I feel sorry for them rather than the mental impaired. TO be gifted, to not give 12 ***** about media, politics, war, economy, and common global uproars. Thus if they do they know more than the presidential campaign combined into one single universal atom. What I’m getting at is are they the joke or are we?
