.

i post a post that postesdts a protest which spawns from the mastery of which box i may have when into i fell while still under fire. alas, these walls which had purposely intricated into spectrum eyes and vast hues of rainbotic phoenimia, indeed spawned from and when Atricus into the dark night feel, who believed when they made him rhyme that his coat was properly fashioned before in the how and so i felt like a sandwhich that catered to the belonging of a relative of the monster who lied behind the shadow of my hypnocratic religion. avast, ye pirates, scurvy is still alive! there is a support group online called "SCURVY ANONYMOUS."

now this just in, for anyone who tuned out before they realized that the price of the toadstool was no more than the light which shined from the gloves of immaculating power, indeed the very effortless force which tumbles through vast space to relay it's positronic reclamation into the fabric of reality itself; i write a notice which notices the notice and not ice, but hot fire rained from the bib of the crucible which hung murderously within the sculpture that deprived life of it's meaning and forced the interloping zealot to fall into wasted darkness, no light to guide his path.


into the great beyond whence when they came through ever zoning mural into bright blue chaos where they feasted upon the rotting flesh of those who they had so eagerly conquested in a rage of blind deceit.

and indeed the murderous capade could find no true facade, interested in the means to spread the chaotic reals of normalicy, thus did the single tile fall from the roof, which bounded backward and forward to view see visualize and why then when did all what is can do what never once made did do i do?

into the dark horizon which burns like the caverns of extended emotional responsiveness which guide us through the inner vessel which companions is to one which exists on in theory.

theory theory theory theory theory

drip drop

into my wasted cup i flush the bounty of espresso down the drain in a cool reflection of hydroviscosity. indeed, waste into nothingness before the sea of malignant error which rose before me as a testament to the blockade which surfaces in these moments to appreciate the effort put into comprehending it's essence.

i drive forward, forward, forward

the blurred light before me echoes off into discs of photokinetic cells which adjust and reassemble the proper experience.

lights...

and then the smoke rises

fixed...there's nothing

floating beyond myself;
flying

and then i speak.

"into the web of most appreciated respectable realities i bring forward my own; a drifting world of mad prophets, conspiracy, sardonic musings, and a quibble of other retending littigets.

spheres of light flow into the paper
and globes of mass, which spread before the master
how he glides between the message
with such serenity none can contain

it's as if he were gone completely when within his thoughts
he moved beyond into a world which only existed deep within his mind
and patiently he sat, awaiting a reason to unleash it.

as time has passed, or has it? he wonders why his efforts have lead him to nowhere

"THIS JUST IN, DERP, YOU CANNOT JUST EXPECT EVERYTHING TO HAPPEN IN A DAY!"

he realized that he was writing, and thus it helped remind him that something was once to and forthright so after that he made his way to uncle franz where he instilled a drought in native peoples for extra credit.