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Monthly Archives: February 2014

I just want conferring desire, and I postulate nonsense to her armored hesitancy, but I deposit that smile for later use, yet I earn blasphemy, and I suppress neural transmitting glutamate with the help of a drive-thru pharmacy, though I still tug at an impossible meeting between us, and I lose myself in a dirty right angle of grouted tile, yet I keep calm within pressurized angst, or at least, that’s what they say about me, and I break tools, but I grin on demand, though I might call for stranded aspects of her, and I value disorderly banter, and I lost your scent, but I undertake new elements for my regular practice, which omits that general amendment of cerebral sufficiency to behave in a pitifully needing manner, and I recognize enough, but I find hell in their apologies, though I get jealous when she envisions the razor sharp imaginary collisions, and I just meddle around during my own sadistic trial, but I am ritualistically emptying these stored up attitudes from the grand hallucination, while I ration our bait, and I disprove the metaphor, but I get stalked by the consequences of my infatuation with her perfectly unwilled dominance of this appropriate register, and I miss the dead, though I heckle our boredom, and I turn corners, but I gamble when it’s essential.

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