Let’s look at …

Let’s look at the things that I’ve ate today. I’ve been getting hungry. Eating more. A lack of personal effort, a cringe of character always falls backs back into the well. In only exasperation wringing his hands in the air while indifferently dissecting the parts that laid before him as the moment boldly encapsulated him. I feigned for lack of moving willfully out of the escort devices, without which couldn’t we manage our transactions bitter or speechless. I wouldn’t concede against the least of the former against the fortitude standing with me, by the latter.

Her nervous speech always has way of weakening the levee. Flooding the beats that furtively inbreed the next step of mishap of noise that soggs the words whispered of this breath.

Take it all then by mischievous dressing flouts as her eyes candid with pearl and sapphire tires I look a lot not enough but then I spot something of what there is. Between the moments that I see her, as I approach there’s a slight quiver in the end. To learn and master restraint. To break the rules of whatever remains, all in with nothing to hold me back or gather the reins to a near end of what ultimately drains my will of sustainability.


There’s not much to say swapping chains of codes underneath the ruffle of out thumbs and nails. There’s another word on the fly, it’s called gratitude. Or Ratatatouille, what’s worse none of it makes sense until decades past the water has drained out. Buckets come, rising forking at the flood with their capacity for what endures under the skin of toil is men weary of the fact that the damage has been done. It’s time to buckle up!

Well, they gather what remains of the grit-less defame incredulity.


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