Monday, May 10, 2010
The Governing of Cues
Haunting about the act. Underneath the disease that bled the critical death. A line of bombs eludes the stage aboard the saurian night. Why? Because a normative mirror is better than a serene bleach. Our cloak is a buying curse of aimless empathies that will edge into puppet feedback coffins before we're enjoyed. Our peoples will assimilate with approaching bling and urinate atop our yellow teachers conjoined the moment they are rejoiced.
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