I am, as I start this post, tainted with anger about a few things. I’ve been told not to be negative, and I also want to shred myself out of the sieve. Some may wish that I don’t live, yet I will pervade and have laid out more truth than some can comprehend or recall from their youth. Noted too, that I also got pissed off a the Sprite coloured blue.
Anyhow…. I grab the plough and now start a new course of action. The refraction of the street from the beat that they drop. To spin the Brisk like a top of drink to find the kinds of things under the meld of how some hold me up to death. The meld of Beth also shows the flows of the aura that glows. The toes dig deep into the sand asking you also to keep the bond between the two bound with band. The sandals in the snow shall show the symbiotic flow and how I go too far with some of the anger in my car. A shriek may find me to wish to remove another who claims to be a brother.
Written to my mother this morning is a page of two that reminds us that I am explicitly not you, and that I know there would be a fatality if I duplicated myself to two. The view that I have now also shows that those that lay a guilt trip are part of how the chips shall find the thread wind about that led to page with the Starbucks stage where I chose to be, as I want to key more text. The idea of another in the consects trying to direct the tonect, as there is no reason why it is I you should protect. I lack respect and have cultivated a deep animosity against myself for placing myself up on the shelf.
It’s true I did not go to see you, and frankly madam, I hope you understand that it’s because I don’t want to interact. I want to refract the tact and show that just because I didn’t go to visit, that you should not shit in my heart. The note of the dart also finds me chasing the death cart back to track, as some things I wish also to lack.
I wish to lack hate and animosity. I wish to lack death and despair. I also note that those four things are partly why I make the choice to not be there.
The airs need to clear… please let me find a time and space to unwind the rhyme with the natural grace of being kind. The thread you wish to wind around my throat may find also that the totes are in the spin of how some people almost refuse to let me win. I am not wanting to deal with some of anyone right now. I want to sit behind the plough and seed the future yields of how some other wields my mind to make me unkind with the ruse we have lined.
I see not the benefit of how I am to help if I sit here, as the fact is that the written material isn’t to clear the bar to let me meet the star. Aurevoir they say as I didn’t make the time to play.
Dear dear Ruth…. so glad you brought love my way! Thank you for helping me get a bunch of negativity away by reminding me that you have your grandkids of which to interact and play. I love it when love gets in the mix and shoves out the meld of other salty people who wish to mix their minds to mine like bricks.
There is a mix of how that is in the soul now… lightness and brightness and the deep gladness that pervades and casts away the spades. The grades will be passed with more PLU8R amassed around the kids. The bids are not what I’m searching for. I’m merely wanting to close the door on some who wish to come from a point of hate, and that I am to be given the heart and spcae to create. Some things hold the rings around the S-Turn and how it’s Turn and Burn, or reverse when the poker players converse. The tomorrow link from Cyne shares how we now know that the flow is fueled by light and love. The fight of the dove shows that the halos and horns find those who’ve sworn the thorn is me, when all I want to be is free.
Thank you God for allowing me the grace to trace the keys out the breeze without needing cheese, as the butter laden MCs will find the freeze of Sub-Zero as a past hero. The cast find me to near the flow of perception without a need for an intervention. Suspension from class shows that you may still wish to taint my mind with your thoughts that pass.
Speak clear and concise with the device that will show my love has such a minimal price. The fact of the subliminal mice also show that I am a bit depraved when the gals start to run the show. The facts of my smig share the giggle and blush of her mixing my mind up like mush. A soft shush of the mental brush also shows that those that let me abet as a Jet or set me up for defeat will catch wind of the truth, and remind you that I’m glad you left me alone so that I could sit in my seat. Some things are not sour, as the hours that pass by shall share the Iona with the reason why. No green for me, though the other mages may cast and use, and the fact of me also is that I don’t have any for one of the home crews.
The dues that link the web to the ebb and flow show that the cyber lines share the true designs of how it inclines the spines to be quicker than nines. The signs that you use also show me your ruse and how you too seem to have a short fuse. The two’s are thrown to the tone of the idea from earlier… An idea that will need to seed ten couples and their dualism. I cannot correctly refract the prism at this moment where the idea went to the venting of the steam, and maybe that’s a link to two who almost incline me to scream out that I also doubt that I care. I didn’t make the time to be there, and even though I cannot share, the glare of your mind also inclines me to react by being unkind. The pacts of those signed also shall divulge that the battle of the note will also show that when I’m pissed off, it’s I that you want smote.
A correlative node will show the elloquative ode to demonstrate the road is a place where some of us cannot seem to correctly code. Y’all seem to want to take over my mind and are filling it with lies and deceit and other thoughts that will attempt to call upon me a defeat by many more that are part of community and not the street. Yet still, I am learning to chill and set that God’s will be done, I am merely a human on his planet that knows that many will forever believe in the son.
Though two minutes from done, the solitary path to walk has been won by one who refuses to let his work be undone.