Tr'incoiquires

To hell with it, want whatever you are! There is magic in being-before they wither as we all do, as everything abruptly changing does. Keep quiet and honor this resting ]place[

Eyes inside, making it my point to see nothing.
My fledgling orifice.

For this reason failure. So what if they sold it all? No matter moaning irresponsible retirement now abducted. I never felt alive when they were thinking-life emptiness a weekday possession. Confrontation inquires:

"What have you accomplished?"

"There has been one thing...I've accomplished such an emotional drain that any guilt for not having achieved anything more relevant is now defunct."

Truly virtuous men are small and inconsequential. Imagine this: conversation spliced with Main Character's mental oscillation, loss of humor. They'd fawn. I'd be great--a marvelous, wonderful kind of literary genius.

Con-Olyph

Thank biological for coupons redeemed.

Introductory outside adjacent asking me unexpressed discrepancy rash middle-man irritating. Shoplifting hearsay reiterative, biological blank what with ever increasing down again. Comforted thing objective; happy almost facing unkempt afterbirth continues growing.

I loathe the empty threat of remembering. Solder ghosts when the mind is written trite beyond its aging cliche formalities. Growing older--the same as empty promises a flower bed for little believers. I've counted so many fools...

And they'll have children, too.
It's unbelievable.