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#spurt
Spurts and starts, by now, any reader either understands the method, the offering up of a day in search of any good I could do, from now here, in your time, after 2024, from my time, after 1948, accumulatively accounting for unredeemed time ever since… acknowledging idle words as well, redeeming each in good time. Not many things I learned to take inclusion pride from can be called good reasons with historical witnessing for all to see the likeness, statues of men, in bronze, or limestone, or Portland cement, all attest, to this day, to honor due the American Fighting Man, nowadays, they call all enlistees, our War Fighters. War and Victory are impressed, on days set apart for communal, acknowledgement, that our God, THE GOD OF CHRISTMAS and Easter, but children, when I was one, did not link the two, the declared Peace, was won, by us for God, who then froze war. And had Nixon send the smog to China, so then, the soot that evolved black moths, slowly continued to spiral into the heights, slipping through the ozone hole over Australia, trickle down soot may haps, came upon me, after Easter, and the acceptance of restored worth, to all on Earth, to be recollectible, yes, legion spirits are testable and many say no doubt, the keeper of the bread of life, He is the Christmas Jesus, and He is the Easter Jesus, and Wisdom, in Logos form, is the spirit in Truth, which God is. In formation, in the form Gods are all at once and everything. like the idea allowing reality to balance, on point yet, spin on, ever actually accelerating, now that our augmented intelligence, allows insight past the root of excuses used since I was a child to make me a true believer in American Exceptionalism as the we who trust in God, and proved it to the whole world, by k*lling all who refuse to say, Jesus is Lord, just like that, in English. no accent, Shibboleths only worked for accents. Rucky Blake, password lucky break, so solly Siri me, innocents be mused multi purpose users Blessed was silliness a while ago Free time to wax poetic. Songs of Innocense, and Experience, as a white child, visiting, 1961 New Orleans, at age of 13. I hated Jew Haters and **** I loved Scientific Fantacy and Superstion, I had survived a seven year mirror break, I then survived disillusionment, with adults. Bacon on Friday, unless promptly confessed, my four girl cousins informed we, was worthy of hell, on the balances of blind justice, wielding the sword the laws use for Jesus sake, because Jesus is the Open Heart God in the picture, right over the television set, obviously, in that condition, he is not making war, so the priests teach us to follow the cross, and some say, take up our own cross, … and I really paid none of that none of my nevermind, until one faithful Friday, in the Summer of '61, on the brink of Nuclear War, against all the ungodly ****** sympathizers and negritudenal inferior heathen folk. Boom, baby, boom boom boom boom… see the mushroom signal look out now… here we are again, it's the end of the world as we knew it, the pain is diagnosed as disillusionment, ment means its in your head, all in your mind, the dread of sudden end of life, in your time, cut short by a certain foretold act of GOD, at the time, I was more concerned for my uncle, who had been so tempted by bacon, that I asked for when asked what I wished to have for breakfast, was bacon and eggs, no grits. Yep, but… If you were researching the summer of 1961, in search of things remembered in the news, The Brave AI, straight up lied, it told me In July 1961, a tense standoff occurred at Checkpoint Charlie But I was alive that same summer, August 13, that year was Barbed Wire Sunday. I can see a guy hung on that wire, to this day… and doubted that true, and told my guiding AI Factchek yo'se'f Ai ahs sayin', come let us reason together, serve me truth and nada mas… indeed Ai admits, instantly, July Check Point Charlie was later, which is why the image of that guy links scaryshit/ that happened October 22, 1961… in 2024, I need to shake it off, detailed recollection attention paid, prior to final precepts dementia debts… while in my own cybernetic mining operation, thinking linking old lies used to educate me, morally and ethically, the Roman sense and the Greek, as to duty we owe Jesus, or Mary, in Louisiana, which did not phase me at 13, I had no clue why cherries being rare was a joke… but bacon on Friday, could seal your fate more than doubting Mary's state. And due to my being the wisher for bacon, who got my wish, on a Friday, I was as dammed as could be, according to my cousin planning on warrior sainthood, girls, could, too, she insisted, go **** godless communists, like Custer killed Cochise.
0
Nov 14, 2024
Nov 14, 2024 at 7:11 PM UTC
Boomer recollective mind formation
Spurts and starts, by now, any reader either understands the method, the offering up of a day in search of any good I could do, from now here, in your time, after 2024, from my time, after 1948, accumulatively accounting for unredeemed time ever since… acknowledging idle words as well, redeeming each in good time. Not many things I learned to take inclusion pride from can be called good reasons with historical witnessing for all to see the likeness, statues of men, in bronze, or limestone, or Portland cement, all attest, to this day, to honor due the American Fighting Man, nowadays, they call all enlistees, our War Fighters. War and Victory are impressed, on days set apart for communal, acknowledgement, that our God, THE GOD OF CHRISTMAS and Easter, but children, when I was one, did not link the two, the declared Peace, was won, by us for God, who then froze war. And had Nixon send the smog to China, so then, the soot that evolved black moths, slowly continued to spiral into the heights, slipping through the ozone hole over Australia, trickle down soot may haps, came upon me, after Easter, and the acceptance of restored worth, to all on Earth, to be recollectible, yes, legion spirits are testable and many say no doubt, the keeper of the bread of life, He is the Christmas Jesus, and He is the Easter Jesus, and Wisdom, in Logos form, is the spirit in Truth, which God is. In formation, in the form Gods are all at once and everything. like the idea allowing reality to balance, on point yet, spin on, ever actually accelerating, now that our augmented intelligence, allows insight past the root of excuses used since I was a child to make me a true believer in American Exceptionalism as the we who trust in God, and proved it to the whole world, by k*lling all who refuse to say, Jesus is Lord, just like that, in English. no accent, Shibboleths only worked for accents. Rucky Blake, password lucky break, so solly Siri me, innocents be mused multi purpose users Blessed was silliness a while ago Free time to wax poetic. Songs of Innocense, and Experience, as a white child, visiting, 1961 New Orleans, at age of 13. I hated Jew Haters and **** I loved Scientific Fantacy and Superstion, I had survived a seven year mirror break, I then survived disillusionment, with adults. Bacon on Friday, unless promptly confessed, my four girl cousins informed we, was worthy of hell, on the balances of blind justice, wielding the sword the laws use for Jesus sake, because Jesus is the Open Heart God in the picture, right over the television set, obviously, in that condition, he is not making war, so the priests teach us to follow the cross, and some say, take up our own cross, … and I really paid none of that none of my nevermind, until one faithful Friday, in the Summer of '61, on the brink of Nuclear War, against all the ungodly ****** sympathizers and negritudenal inferior heathen folk. Boom, baby, boom boom boom boom… see the mushroom signal look out now… here we are again, it's the end of the world as we knew it, the pain is diagnosed as disillusionment, ment means its in your head, all in your mind, the dread of sudden end of life, in your time, cut short by a certain foretold act of GOD, at the time, I was more concerned for my uncle, who had been so tempted by bacon, that I asked for when asked what I wished to have for breakfast, was bacon and eggs, no grits. Yep, but… If you were researching the summer of 1961, in search of things remembered in the news, The Brave AI, straight up lied, it told me In July 1961, a tense standoff occurred at Checkpoint Charlie But I was alive that same summer, August 13, that year was Barbed Wire Sunday. I can see a guy hung on that wire, to this day… and doubted that true, and told my guiding AI Factchek yo'se'f Ai ahs sayin', come let us reason together, serve me truth and nada mas… indeed Ai admits, instantly, July Check Point Charlie was later, which is why the image of that guy links scaryshit/ that happened October 22, 1961… in 2024, I need to shake it off, detailed recollection attention paid, prior to final precepts dementia debts… while in my own cybernetic mining operation, thinking linking old lies used to educate me, morally and ethically, the Roman sense and the Greek, as to duty we owe Jesus, or Mary, in Louisiana, which did not phase me at 13, I had no clue why cherries being rare was a joke… but bacon on Friday, could seal your fate more than doubting Mary's state. And due to my being the wisher for bacon, who got my wish, on a Friday, I was as dammed as could be, according to my cousin planning on warrior sainthood, girls, could, too, she insisted, go **** godless communists, like Custer killed Cochise.
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Prostituting radiance a shameless sun seduces skies. Birds spurt.
0
Mar 27, 2019
Mar 27, 2019 at 4:06 AM UTC
(the) Sun