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Monthly Archives: August 2013

I ignore healing petitions from worn out ambition, but I breathe easy in the company of strangers, and I reinstate viral thoughts for everyday use in this chaos named home, and I get paralyzed by tragic assumptions of freedom, though I like vacations, and I placed your glance in a unmarked bottle, but his thoughtful end mangles logical renditions of the plan, though I still wash our ceilings, and I grumble with appreciation, but there wishes trickle away, and I cry because of imaginations, but I salute him with the official entrance of gender duality in this philosophical intrusion, yet I fixate again, though nobody understands his translations, and I orbit around my insistence on repetition, but I see an written venue of devastating architecture, and the frown tackles me, but I crush these amendments to the future, and I praise his work, and I persist forward with tilted detours rivaling emptiness.

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I postpone inevitable death for the sake of moonlit architecture, and through these suggestions for organ longevity, I forget how to carve a meaningful edge into this nothingness, but her episodic distraction of my predicament has gone, and I choose a line to follow, while another waits to be dangled in lure of prescribed boredom that has went awry, and I gather simple views of unattainable etiquette, and I nod my head to familiar operatic rants from the past, but I document with square images in vein, and I pack away our expired license, though I stay near this keyboard, and I administer the minimally necessary dosage, maybe, and her creases formulate epitaphs to unified signatory, and I reinforce appetites for horsepower, but I am threatened by lectures about domestic style, and I pretend numbers may create relaxation through rule based analogies, but I try sitting down to pen colorful butterflies everyday, but I never find an exit out of these sexy cauldrons in my head, and I role the dice, while affirming this, but I organize things nicely, and I clean regularly, as the weather man spews cleverly delivered arrogance onto my statistically perfect bowl of food, and I remain cynical for the hell of it.