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. i love being (the) third party iniciative... i romance the... romance of: i do not remember... it's almost like... life... limited to having to stage, being, pulverised... became limbo-staged for my peruse of; necrophylia-esque. the american accent... sim not *** michael... and i start "thinking" of...        ha ha!        twinky! because i came to boor you with an alligned circumstance of 'floyd....   what?   pwetty pick'ah piq- toor? oh... right... i too hate being reintstated by someone not being boxed for a haemorrhage's worth... oh... did i forget to tongue slip the part of licking the postage stamp? i did? oh...    well... to recompase... 'ere's my shadow... happy 'oo 'p' eeeeee! oh but i want, michael...    like... exotica...    ***** name... marph... thew!     i too was a golden 'aired boy waiting for a ******* hamster! no? not good the wait? good... i like a screaming quasi suffocating ***** like any ukranian ought to want... i suspect that... the people... who tease... become the most ridicule ridden middle-people of a worth of an escapade for the worth of adventure: they will never have... you are... my most... anticipated... feeble. ...       and i... squint eyed, and... oh so many variants.... and... prior to a ****** a psychology...           to ingest a replica feast of intelligence for...       ich...    schattenkind... ich:      wollen zu töten... it's when there's a narrative readily available... that...    things... become... "apparent"... i have forgotten being a res cogitans... like the observation of Kant.. i am a res per se... with a hiccup of an undertaking of Berlioz...                ich    bin die         dieselbe                      blondkind                                         ja... ich heben die ketzere'                      zu töten wie...                               w'rden                    z' 'eben... i almost wish... what if Michael was not Matthew? dead-end... buying vinyl.
0
Feb 6, 2019
Feb 6, 2019 at 10:09 PM UTC
the american accent
. i love being (the) third party iniciative... i romance the... romance of: i do not remember... it's almost like... life... limited to having to stage, being, pulverised... became limbo-staged for my peruse of; necrophylia-esque. the american accent... sim not *** michael... and i start "thinking" of...        ha ha!        twinky! because i came to boor you with an alligned circumstance of 'floyd....   what?   pwetty pick'ah piq- toor? oh... right... i too hate being reintstated by someone not being boxed for a haemorrhage's worth... oh... did i forget to tongue slip the part of licking the postage stamp? i did? oh...    well... to recompase... 'ere's my shadow... happy 'oo 'p' eeeeee! oh but i want, michael...    like... exotica...    ***** name... marph... thew!     i too was a golden 'aired boy waiting for a ******* hamster! no? not good the wait? good... i like a screaming quasi suffocating ***** like any ukranian ought to want... i suspect that... the people... who tease... become the most ridicule ridden middle-people of a worth of an escapade for the worth of adventure: they will never have... you are... my most... anticipated... feeble. ...       and i... squint eyed, and... oh so many variants.... and... prior to a ****** a psychology...           to ingest a replica feast of intelligence for...       ich...    schattenkind... ich:      wollen zu töten... it's when there's a narrative readily available... that...    things... become... "apparent"... i have forgotten being a res cogitans... like the observation of Kant.. i am a res per se... with a hiccup of an undertaking of Berlioz...                ich    bin die         dieselbe                      blondkind                                         ja... ich heben die ketzere'                      zu töten wie...                               w'rden                    z' 'eben... i almost wish... what if Michael was not Matthew? dead-end... buying vinyl.
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Feb 6, 2019
Feb 6, 2019 at 10:09 PM UTC
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