"financially" poems
Farmers farmers
The mighty farmers
The backbone of this country yeah
They need to have rain to run their farms
Or it will be too dry
Each farmer is battling the Aussie sun
Doing what they do
Trying to bring Aussie produce to the tables
Yeah mate ****** yeah
Farmers farmers
The mighty farmers
The backbone of this country yeah
You see they need to help the future of this country get a good education
But they do need rain
And if you can you must give them money
Because it is a hard ****** job
My ****** oathe
It is great to see the worlds famous singers
Putting on a hay mate concert to help them out
And get everyone to sing great songs
Farmers farmers
The mighty farmers
The back bone of this country yeah
Come on Australia
Give three cheers for our farmers
Help them out
Buy them a beer
Give them the shirt off your back
And help them financially
Yes they will appreciate your help
And yes they will feel great
And so will you because you are
Helping the backbone of this country
Farmers farmers
The mighty farmers
Give them your time
Because they are doing it tough
Dec 15, 2019
Dec 15, 2019 at 6:48 AM UTC
I'm afraid of losing my parents.
I'm afraid of death.
Never finding the "right one" is a fear.
Not being financially stable is a fear.
Never being genuinely happy brings me fear.
However, my greatest fear is not being great; not being successful.
Feb 11, 2015
Feb 11, 2015 at 4:20 AM UTC
I want to be available
to the people who love me.
I want to be there
emotionally, physically, financially.
I want to be their shoulder
their crutch, their solace.
The person who does not drop anything.
I want to give the feeling
of lightness to every being walking this earth.
Every human, creature, and plant
as they grow up fast.
I want to be nutrition,
a steadfast superhuman
so unfazed, so cool-headed.
It infuriates me
that I'm not this person.
It should be so easy to give.
If I just get my **** together,
I've repeated on and off again
the last five years.
But somehow, I always manage
to waste enough time
to get there,
but late.
When I have nothing
left, a hollow person
someone gave too
many tries.
Still, the people I love
tell me I'm wise,
an angel body.
Like they must justify,
who I am,
the imposter
the transient,
always planning,
for when she can
run away again.
Feb 26, 2018
Feb 26, 2018 at 11:53 PM UTC
I have no reason to be sad.
I have food on my table,
I live in a luxurious stable,
I’m not disabled nor financially unstable.
Everything I want, I had.
So please explain to me how I went all bad?
Jul 19, 2018
Jul 19, 2018 at 6:06 PM UTC
Dear husband,
I pray that you have God as your first love and you pray to him vigorously. I pray he hears your whispers, your screams, your silence, your tears of sorrow; and tears of joy. I pray that he blesses you with the tools you need to build & keep your foundation sturdy and deeply rooted.
I pray that your past doesn't linger and damage your future. I pray that you fall madly in love with yourself and you know who you are as a man and understand what you stand for. I pray that you evolve in this lifetime with your love, mind, body and soul. I pray that you are financially responsible and have the common sense that's needed to survive. I pray that you pray for me and our beautiful family and friends. I pray that you feel me, see me, understand me, like and love me as a woman and what I stand for. I pray that you have patience for us; be gentle enough for us.
Mar 13, 2017
Mar 13, 2017 at 7:32 PM UTC
Why do you love the one you do?
Arrogant as he lives
Intriguing minds have not a clue.
He cheats, he lies and receives your endless forgives
Security he cannot propose
Financially, spiritually, emotional or otherwise.
Love unfaithfully he bestows
Disguised as Christian he justifies.
Smothered in the cocoon of his limited sphere,
Hinders flight for the beautiful butterfly,
Egotistically the coward oozes insincere.
Sadly pondering, inquiring minds ask Why?
Oct 22, 2015
Oct 22, 2015 at 12:55 AM UTC
Depression, is a concession of unstable chemicals made from the memories of cruel intentions,
My life is still here plodding along..
But only I hear the sound of my own thoughts like an annoying repetitive song.
I hear that little voice, calm down it says! stop filling your stupid head,
with anxiety a lack of self motivation and such a thing as recreation, only self interrogation and constant ************
I think of ways of ending it.. A rope around my neck?... or a cocktail of prescribed drugs?
I try to find help but no one is willing or the nhs has started billing,
I blame society and the burning of the bras,
things were simpler with our evolutionary past.
Nothing is moving I am stuck,
I feel useless and out of so called ambitious luck.
My patience is wearing and poignant preparations, is it really that necessary?
I just can't be fckd!
Move on, try again and again.
Run away!...
But financially there is no escape!
The cruel beatings,
the childhood ruined by my selfish relatives and a man I fell pregnant with.
Take away the memories..
please take them away before I cry the tears from the river of blood and pain.
Jun 13, 2013
Jun 13, 2013 at 2:53 PM UTC
I'm on the run
And not for fun
The police are chasing
My heart is racing
When my life is at stake
My morality I'll break
The police release the hounds
I can hear their deadly sounds
They want to maim me
I want to stay me
I decide to fight the charging canines
Because I just snorted a ******* line
My judgement loses length
To my influx of strength
I break the dogs' legs
Until they beg
That's not enough
Sorry Scruff
The steel gun I fire
A furry cop retired
The police attack me
For defending myself
They refuse to see
The danger to my health
They chose to use crazy canines
So I feel the fault isn't mine
That doesn't change their decision
For me to die slowly in prison
I am in the teeth of the government
Much to my human wonderment
This is the way I'll spend the rest of my life
For the decisions I made at the end of a knife
The irony is cops **** dogs all the time
Yet they obstruct their vision of the line
Where it ceases to be man versus society
And becomes man versus nature
When a man is in peril
He must turn feral
But in a country that blindly idolizes aggression
The police don't acknowledge this discretion
They dig their teeth into our skin
While draining us financially
The only way we'll ever win
Is if things change substantially
Sadism fervently fuels the flames of conflict
With an exasperated public sick of being kicked
Cruelty is what they witness
To lose their mental fitness
How can they protect their babies
When the police have rabies?
The police relationship with the effected public will never shift
When there's a Cereberus between them maintaining the rift
Oct 24, 2017
Oct 24, 2017 at 5:35 AM UTC
Distance traveled time spent's dynamic progressiveness, existentially transcendental's clairaudience clairvoyance. Metaphysical mystique’s evolutionally metamorphic futurity's fatidic incarnate. Due yesterday’s retrospectively retroactive. Protractive analyses' dimensional delineations. Enigma entity’s dexterously tactile acuity and coordinated agility on the identity crisis. Cerebral cortex’s ****** matrix to synaptic syntax semantics. Prospectus perplexity surreally sublime. Quagmire quandary’s poshly plush. Who am I to think I can conception of the infinite supply? Even the syntactics of eclectic synectics pale by compare to the atrociously impetuous impudence in pugnaciously audacious. Impromptu innuendo's juncture. Imagination’s immaturities are psychic clarity’s entelechy to evolutional tenants élan vital. Fiduciary principle's financially responsible fiscal policies. Mercenary mendacity's plenary plenipotentiary. Innocuous noumenal verity, mystic symbiotic’s chicanery dynamism fealties. Proximity parameter’s perimeter peripherals, vicinity victuals to vigilante villain, propinquity habitation’s harbingers of harangued. The question remains on the tribal: how can I stand next to the person I’m standing next to if I’m carrying on right through them. It’s the trajectory extant in spatiotemporal's telemetry tactician. Well graspy greedy on the stingy frugal to mingy minion and paw flaw laws claws on it. Get a glove, objectified manifest’s diminutive minutia iota’s of self-inductive interstitial extrapolation. Detinue perfective. Traveling down this obtusely overt contusion in my vehicular contrivance convection convolution. Nimbus nimiety exorcism’s aura roan to rainbow mare. Unicorn railway nails. Swarthy ******** swath swizzles on the sweaty swelter swerve to verve.
May 28, 2019
May 28, 2019 at 12:10 PM UTC
Doubt
So easy to say.
So hard to get past.
I've always had a little bit of it reflected inwardly because I've never been able to attain the appearance I wanted. I've never been quite thin enough. My hair has never been quite long enough. My skin never quite clear enough. And because of this its caused me to doubt other areas. If I can't get in peak physical shape, what makes me think I can become financially independent? Get a good job? Start my own business? If I can't control something as simple as a complexion, hair follicle or calorie, how do I think I can take on the outside world?
It's the doubt that eats you.
It's the doubt that tucks you into your grave with the could haves because you cancelled yourself out.
You're problem is not in your thighs or uneven eyebrows. Your problem is you think they're your problem.
Stop taking yourself out.
You are worthy.
You are so. worth. loving.
Sep 15, 2015
Sep 15, 2015 at 11:28 PM UTC
To quote Athos from "The Three Musketeers"
"You are not a woman
You are a demon escaped from Hell"
When I first met you as a colleague
I made the mistake
Of getting friendly with you
When I should have ensured
That our relationship was going to be strictly professional
Of course, you had your own ways
Of charming those whom you came in contact with
That is something for which I have to give you credit
Albeit grudgingly
And you were an expert
At playing the victim card
Nevertheless, after I changed jobs
I thought I had seen the last of you
However, you came back into my life
As unexpectedly as the recent rains in Chennai
Initially, it seemed kind of sweet
However, I should have realised sooner
That you had certain ulterior motives
Unfortunately, I got fooled by your sweet talk
And started helping you financially
Because you looked up to me as a brother
I never doubted you in the slightest
Which was probably the biggest mistake of my life
You took advantage of me
In the worst way possible
And kept draining my bank account
Your lies kept getting taller and taller
And I kept believing them
Because, you had me well and truly under your thumb
However, even the most credulous person in the world
Can develop suspicions at some stage
Thus, after years of being in a psychological coma
I finally managed to wake up to the harsh reality
And told my family everything
Of course, with the help of a dear family friend
After we finally confronted you
You signed a written agreement
Promising to return all my money
Within a certain deadline
That deadline has long since passed
And you have not paid even ten percent of your dues
What is worse
Is the fact that you are absconding
And giving absolutely nonsensical reasons
Which even an utter fool would find it difficult to believe
You ruined my life
Destroyed my happiness
And shattered my self-confidence
Is this the way you treat a person
Whom you have addressed as "brother"
Not once, not twice, but several times?
I am giving you one last chance
Not for your sake
But for the sake of humanity
You had better take it
Because, if not
Then you will soon find yourself in prison
Again, to quote Athos
"You are not a woman
You are a demon escaped from Hell"
May 8, 2023
May 8, 2023 at 10:45 AM UTC
I cancelled my bank overdraft
Cut my cards up in a small pile
Actually, it was quite large you know
And this act made me smile
Just deal with cash from here on out
Never buy more than I need
It released a weight off of my shoulders
And deep down I felt freed
fiscally conservative
financially responsible
My nation cannot do it
Without me as an example
No more fees for paying late
If I need it I pay cash
Budgets I will follow
And spending...that I'll slash
Can you imagine if a nation
Took this simple thought to mind
Just pay with what we make from tax
And leave what we can't afford behind
No missiles, and no foreign debt
We're just beholding to ourselves
It's politically reprehensible
But, we owe it to ourselves
fiscally conservative
financially responsible
My nation cannot do it
Without me as an example
No more fees for paying late
If I need it I pay cash
Budgets I will follow
And spending...that I'll slash
No government agendas
To trade for that we can't afford
It would ***** the nations bankers
And make the economists quite bored
To be responsible for our actions
We are taught right from the start
don't spend the money you don't have
Well, to me...that's really smart
fiscally conservative
financially responsible
My nation cannot do it
Without me as an example
No more fees for paying late
Spending I will slash
My budget I will follow
And from now on pay just cash
Sep 1, 2012
Sep 1, 2012 at 7:57 PM UTC
I sat across from a man made of millions.
From his shiny black patent shoes to his dolphin patterned socks,
and his slicked back gray blonde hair, a color so elusive
Midas himself would find fault with designating blame,
I saw treachery.
If character were based on dress I would assign worth every time.
But people don't work that way: you must listen to what they say.
When he mentioned God and fate in the same breath as commissions and unlimited potential financially,
I went back to the socks.
Imagining the dolphins desperately trying to find someone else's socks,
someone less driven by green pieces of paper easily set aflame by
a deranged individual, someone like me,
who would not be so ludicrous, but entertained the notion,
would have more idealistic pure thought framing.
While the world runs in bounding strides to freedom from debt, from loans, from taxes, and money....stuff,
so that every "thing" materializes as a personal possession
and retirement happens at the unseemly age of 35,
but who will provide a home for the dolphins?
I would not throw my socks away as soon as the threads began to bare.
I would find some cerulean blue thread and weave in the ocean.
Jun 27, 2014
Jun 27, 2014 at 1:35 PM UTC
Most of my life, I’ve been a highly independent person and proudly so. I have grown myself up, travelled alone, personal decisions. I am even praised for being so independent. I can’t say I did not enjoy the glory. I have rejected my support system fiercely and craved the glory of independence.
Growing up and be independent! That’s all that has been a goal. I had made personal independence as my virtue. Independence from parents, from education, and when you have your heartbroken, independence from being in love. I hated the word “compromise” and the only way to achieve. Doing something all by yourself takes no compromising. I don’t have to think about someone else’s feelings, I don’t have to worry about their needs, I don’t have to take care of anyone but me. Now, this sounds more and more like selfish than independence.
I realise the bigger struggle is to collaborate and come to a solution where everyone has their needs met, to give as well as take. Now that felt like growing up, the test of real courage. Are we glorifying independence because we don’t want to take care of other people? Because everywhere I went, someone was telling me I needed to find my freedom. Everywhere I looked, I searched in vain for that independence I once had, finally having to accept I would never be an unemotional, unattached person again.
Maybe we need not be independent. Self-made Is so overrated. Nobody is. We need not be. Even world war was won by the alliance. We need 2 for a clap or make a life. You need light and day to survive, you need bones and muscles. The world is not singular, the world is not independent. Even earth is going round and round the sun with a crazy crush that it can’t collide into and it can’t move away from. Earth is so on its own, so much in its own, but its existence is a collaborative one.
I know now that I can’t go at it alone or maybe even if I can I don’t want to do this alone. I want to live a life with friends and family supporting each other through the good, the rough, and everything in between. And I want a romantic partner to experience life with me. I want to have support emotionally, physically, and financially a coexistence.
My feminazi is in admitting that we need more feminine collaboration than the masculine ideal of success and independence. I want to find that freedom of shared submission and being part of something bigger than self-sufficiency.
Dec 16, 2019
Dec 16, 2019 at 6:17 AM UTC
and as this the new day
reveals it's perfectly pure and clean
new face
politically pristine
oil spill-less and
corporately blessed
with financially bought off
presidents
congressmen
and supreme court judges
who confess
that all negros
they detest
and imprison or ****
so willfully
willingly
as they do all poor folks
who,in their need
seek justice
which in this the new day with it's new face
isn't here anymore
Jul 28, 2010
Jul 28, 2010 at 11:09 AM UTC
Another Sunday, time to recover
From all the drugs, my only lover
Take my B vitamins to start the circulation
With some fish oils to reduce inflammation
Most importantly, are my amino acids
Because of that I've been flushed
So now I replenish these masses
The benzos are the only drugs that get touched
So addicted to them, so I know it's a must
If a doctor read this, he'd understand my logic
But if a doctor read this, he'd command me to stop it
As I continue my day with my normal acting mind
I realize I'm a slave to drugs, all the time
But I'm financially flourished
The whole family I nourish
And after reading these poems, I feel some people get jealous
Who would follow me? They know my soul I had sold it
I always follow back, I'm not a bad guy
Now sit on top of that, I'm not living a lie
I could really care less about it
It's just an alias, and a therapeutic outlet
Just another Sunday
Glad you read about it
Aug 3, 2014
Aug 3, 2014 at 1:28 PM UTC
A square, white, four bedroom, one bath country home
With fourteen kids, parents and much family love
We didn’t have abundance: fiscally poor
But we had each other: banked on our family
We shared our victories and or trying pain
We were a modest Scottish Catholic Clan
Isolated, we were not to our immediate clan
Our uncle’s lived within a trot, fifteen in his home
We kids worked and played on the farm without pain
It was an adventurous labor of extended family love
We worked, laughed, cried, and played as a family
In the early years, we young ones were anything but poor
However, in grammar school, we learned the meaning of poor
And materialism and envy, outside our cloistered clan
But together we lived and loved as a close nit family
Sure we had disagreements, not material goods, but a solid home
White paint peeled on the outside, yet inside was painted love
Still, there were poverty jokes, ridicule and masked pain
Every family has strife, baggage, and superfluous pain
Our parents didn’t drink; we had faith, yet fiscally poor
Ole Dad plumbed toilets; Mom slaved in the house, both with love
So we wouldn’t trade riches for our impoverished meager clan
Summer berries to pick, winter sledding, spring kites, and forever home
Kickball games, splashing in ponds, nature hikes and family
We were not taught to show emotions, hug, not an “I love you family,”
Albeit, an honest, polite, and proud Scottish Clan
The old house was eternally warm; it was our forever home
Until 1999. Dad passed from cancer still money poor
Yet rich in the knowledge of family and that his true pain
Was never saying that word; on his deathbed he whispered “Love”
Though our patriarch was laid to rest, we rose with the word “Love”
Eventually, the house was sold, but always one huge family
Mom spends her days in a retirement home remembering her clan
As time passes and memories fades, it lessens the pain
Of the loss of a noble father, economically poor
Yet with a strong work ethic, church, and love, built a home
Fourteen children now forged fourteen homes on love
Many, still, financially poor, but rich in forever family
Correcting mistakes that caused pain, while perpetuating our clan
Jan 22, 2013
Jan 22, 2013 at 3:23 PM UTC
$ $ $
Because I hate money
as money hates me,
I will out-live my debt
and be buried for free.
My gravest desire:
die poor, with no coffin,
that Death may unharden
what Life could not soften.
Because money hates me
I sometimes hate God,
(though I never served Mammon)
so SHOVEL, you clod,
while I speak from the grave;
a cadaver with class:
come strew a few flowers
and cover my ***
(Or cover my assets
financially
so my corpse doesn’t lie
like a liability.)
Because money hates me
I’ll leave it to you
to savor my point of
funereal view.
Sep 17, 2015
Sep 17, 2015 at 10:30 PM UTC
Here I am, the manic pixie dream girl of, you guessed it; your dreams. I am here to ask you questions about your boring, probably something generic, major like business or management or maybe even some type of art form that no one really knew existed until you decided to bring it to your high school and of course the liberal arts school of your dreams has that EXACT program and all the means to support it financially. Of course, I will always ask about you. How your day is, how your plain black coffee is, what you thought of that one song that played as we were walking into the train after a date that both of us probably went on looking to get laid. But in the end, it will always be you. I will continue to fluff your deflated ego that was caused as such by some hollywood trope from your hometown like a cheerleader or maybe even someone who was on AV Club with you, who really knows, because I sure as hell don’t care to do any research into it. Now, part of being your early to mid-twenties manic pixie dream girl, it is essential for us to bond over old broken up bands that neither one of us were actually alive to see perform yet that dream of ours is still so prevalent as we make conversations over whiskey you assume I like because of it’s pretentious name that you will describe as “harsh yet creamy, dry but sweet” and on bad nights I will tell you that it tastes like the back of my father’s hand and you will laugh at a joke I did not intend to tell but then again I will have to ask you what is so funny. I will always be the one asking you about a life I am so willing to leave without even meeting your family. Being a manic pixie dream girl is all fun and games until I am the one always doing the starting of conversations, until I am the one sending you Spotify playlists that I know you will never listen to, until I am the one showing up unannounced. My name will roll off your tongue like smoke from your American Spirits, but only in the beginning, because by the end; you will cough when I finally tell you to stop calling me.
Aug 23, 2017
Aug 23, 2017 at 5:14 PM UTC
I was abused literally and pushed aside by teacher
He was in rage to see me when I tried to enter
He might have some grievances in mind to nurture
As I was doing fare in studies and position was assured
I was really ashy boy but excellent in pick up
I heard attentively and was cheered with thumb up
His behavior as teacher made great impact in mind
I might have taken it lightly if he was harsh or unkind
It is customary to show little disrespect to the poor students
Some of the discourtesy is extended with inferior comments
I was unable to think further but bore a grudge permanently
I remember those abusive remarks and resisted him once vehemently
I thought and rethought about such behavior
As teacher he would have been considerate and held honor
I became reserved from that day and decided to keep silent
As it was now known to me that best way is to offer no comment
In social circle too certain disliking exist for people
It may be more intensive when they are incapable
Not in financial capacity to move forward and compete
Live under their dominance and agree to submit
I remained firm in approach but turned away from close contacts
I kept good will at heart and prayed for their well being in fact
This gave me enough of strength to observe them from distance
I was taken little note of and none observed my presence
I return gesture with kind words and remain aloof
I have enough of strength financially as single proof
They dare not to see me with inferiority and pull down
As I have established of my own and became powerfully known
I wish that same kind of maltreatment is not shown
To children who are unfortunate of having means of their own
They are really asset to us and builder of future generation
How can we be indifferent when question of building nation comes?
I have known some of the people getting blinded
By sudden arrival of fortune and secretly confided
Their common sense gets unnatural boost to reveal
The arrogance is reflected and shown with no efforts to conceal
Dec 9, 2011
Dec 9, 2011 at 7:48 AM UTC
I got this job because I was seventeen
Available everyday at three
In debt with a man after I went clean
My boss at the time was thirty six with a goatee
Five dollars an hour plus tip, you see
It was fine for me.
I met the others standing by the kitchen line
All of them with the same look in their eye
Lying to family and friends saying, financially, their fine
Getting nothing on a tip and never knowing why
Yet they return the next day to serve white wine
Looking around I see all of us wanted more
But I’m in debt and you have to pay the rent
Do it all in one day and go home to a son that’s four
Under the thumb of an old vice president
The roof over the kitchen is about to cave in
And we watch with silent eyes
Because our uniforms are being held with safety pins
Promised new ones but Corporate lies
And when the bubble in the ceiling pops
We’ll be by the dumpsters flicking cigarettes on the road
While the greedy pigs come in drawing lots
Waiting for the gas stove to explode
Paid vacation sounds lovely
Been here every week for the past year
Sometimes I’m called to come in early
Pick up the broken glass from lunch rush beer
The people come in
Angry as they usually are
Now the glares don’t even touch my skin
It makes me laugh how many nasty people sit at the bar
The high-class families who come in for din
It’s been eight hours and six years
Since we started our shift
Staying here for three more is the biggest fear
But we’re already ******
We’ve been here for long we know this career
What else am I supposed to know
Other than how to make dough
It’s been a long night
You can see it in the height
Of cigarette buts by the dumpster
Where we can freely talk about the customer
It’s a busy life
Feels like we’re running out of time
To get out and ignore the strife
But there are times when the tips make us feel sublime
And we can buy a warm meal
Cause maybe it will heal
These aching muscles
That come from a constant hustle
Don’t you see why they say
At the end of the day
We need an ashtray.
Feb 7, 2020
Feb 7, 2020 at 12:14 PM UTC
Dear mother
And father
Now I know how cold this world
After you released me in the airport
My responsibility is not that much
But the pressure I hold
Sometimes It’s too much
For me to hold it by my own
You helped me
By financially
Caring
Loving
Teaching
Screaming at me
Feed me
And raised me
I was too proud to say that
I Cried In My Sleep
You may think I have a strong heart
But my eyes cannot hold the tears
Aug 30, 2018
Aug 30, 2018 at 10:57 PM UTC
Maybe you joined for the money
To save your wealth from dilution
Bitcoin is money, strong and sound
But stay for the revolution
Maybe you came for clever tech
And Bitcoin’s designed solution
The coding and cryptography
Please stay for the revolution
Maybe it’s your first property
Due to worldwide distribution
Truly free and open to all
Now join in the revolution
We all want to save and to spend
Without fear of retribution
Bitcoin thwarts the controlling minds
Who are scared by the revolution
Take this step towards living free
From control and persecution
The Bitcoin Standard - hold it high
Stand firm for the revolution
Let’s keep it peaceful, free, and fun
While making our contribution
And helping our world financially
With the Bitcoin Revolution
Mar 26, 2022
Mar 26, 2022 at 10:28 AM UTC
“Listen honey, I don’t think
you’ll be able to support yourself
with this art stuff.”
“I’m just not sure
how much money you’ll make
if you start your own business.”
"Are you really sure
you’ll be able to provide
on a teacher’s salary?”
“Is that really what
you want to be doing
for the rest of your life?”
Why does everyone want
to be financially wealthy
but emotionally bankrupt?
Feb 3, 2016
Feb 3, 2016 at 12:35 PM UTC
Distance traveled time spent's dynamic progressiveness, existentially transcendental's clairaudience clairvoyance. Metaphysical mystique’s evolutionally metamorphic futurity's fatidic incarnate. Due yesterday’s retrospectively retroactive. Protractive analysis' dimensional delineation. Enigma entity’s dexterously tactile acuity and coordinated agility on the identity crisis. Cerebral cortex’s ****** matrix to synaptic syntax semantics. Prospectus perplexity surreally sublime. Quagmire quandary’s poshly plush. Who am I to think I can conception of the infinite supply? Even the syntactics of eclectic synectics pale by compare to the atrociously impetuous impudence in pugnaciously audacious. Impromptu innuendo's juncture. Imagination’s immaturities are psychic clarity’s entelechy to evolutional tenants élan vital. Fiduciary principle's financially responsible fiscal policies. Mercenary mendacity's plenary plenipotentiary. Innocuous noumenal verity, mystic symbiotic’s chicanery dynamism fealties. Proximity parameter’s perimeter peripherals, vicinity victuals to vigilante villain, propinquity habitation’s harbingers of harangued. The question remains on the tribal: how can I stand next to the person I’m standing next to if I’m carrying on right through them. It’s the trajectory extant in spatiotemporal's telemetry tactician. Well graspy greedy on the stingy frugal to mingy minion and paw flaw laws claws on it. Get a glove, objectified manifest’s diminutive minutia iota’s of self-inductive interstitial extrapolation. Detinue perfective. Traveling down this obtusely overt contusion in my vehicular contrivance convection convolution. Nimbus nimiety exorcism’s aura roan to rainbow mare. Unicorn railway nails. Swarthy swastica swath swizzles on the sweaty swelter swerve to verve.
May 6, 2016
May 6, 2016 at 10:57 PM UTC