JBWWESF: Unitey Delphi and News for 60 Thousand Ears!
Bells bubbling for hyberphenom!
Vienommenomme KLAPSE!
Inside any obstacle lies the debacle of obstinacy, the thin vehicle's wide purpose to awl, for without our vehicle the awl would be but a stick, and as styx, the river flows unto venuscle, barring no beauty to give more laminarrative. Accept what any principle moves, or if it is woven from the ridges forthright by statues bound by cryptic networks. Perhaps Lao Tzu is also Laocoön, immortal haikoon cars many naked deer for fetter.
Before SWAG there was CHEESE
and in Boeotia there was a tradition of
a Harlequin Eros, a foreigner of frigid air.
Once I was in a band, now a lowly
member of some species.
If at first you fail, mostly you will fail afterwards, but you may still live a long time.
You may also live in failure.
My hopes now look more like Caryatids.
Green Tea.
Classic teapots.
Why would I say such a thing. I didn't mean it.
We, the white schitzophrenic writers aren't exactly white, but are still,
mostly crazy. And mostly dead.
This could describe an entire period of mine.
Meeting myself as other people.
Art as the decline of decadence
into decadence.
Decadence seen as an inescapable category
for all semiotic, or semitoyic events.
Somehow, in all the worlds of the South. In the 70's
there was a sort of prophetic retro called
"Looks like Ashcan Kostabi"
More reasons to bring back the Harlequin Eros.
I have no idea what makes you tick, but a lot of people I know think you are
Te bomb.
Secrectly, Ilve ben bilding this gondola oufwherd and then its goold alwit.
Gondwana you shave the lemur parasol.
What is writing but parasol.
It flows and flows and slows and grows.
Try black corn
and porcelain vissage.
Before SWAG there was CHEESE
and in Boeotia there was a tradition of
a Harlequin Eros, a foreigner of frigid air.
Once I was in a band, now a lowly
member of some species.
If at first you fail, mostly you will fail afterwards, but you may still live a long time.
You may also live in failure.
My hopes now look more like Caryatids.
Green Tea.
Classic teapots.
Why would I say such a thing. I didn't mean it.
We, the white schitzophrenic writers aren't exactly white, but are still,
mostly crazy. And mostly dead.
This could describe an entire period of mine.
Meeting myself as other people.
Art as the decline of decadence
into decadence.
Decadence seen as an inescapable category
for all semiotic, or semitoyic events.
Somehow, in all the worlds of the South. In the 70's
there was a sort of prophetic retro called
"Looks like Ashcan Kostabi"
More reasons to bring back the Harlequin Eros.
I have no idea what makes you tick, but a lot of people I know think you are
Te bomb.
Secrectly, Ilve ben bilding this gondola oufwherd and then its goold alwit.
Gondwana you shave the lemur parasol.
What is writing but parasol.
It flows and flows and slows and grows.
Try black corn
and porcelain vissage.
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Irrony Observes The Earthing.