Eleven minutes in heaven, two minute intervals, m givin up on color. I stare at rejects with robbery boons in my head. Made a mistake last night providin the warnin of bein irreversible stands as euphemism. I think the kid has certain legends in mind, which is sort of thrilling to watch. Bad baby, you know the rest.
Ain't get mean with vice principal for nothing = concealer = it's not a freighter, it's a doll = it's not that long, it's a doll = m no good on my own, wasn't cut to take time away from you = it's a kiss and a hug and anything embrace with you, especially thlipsis cuddling. We're all worried.
First remark is dropped, a steady allusion to flip estate. Can't do anything for the guy. With literary cruise, Lorna sticks her tongue out. We haven't changed, we have origami shirts, we pretend to fly kites to appease scrappers, we'll do anything for vocal anyone. This is not a generalization, this is the genocide of the American native.
Argument sprouts, not so personal (m worried, too). Lorna stares at me cos she knows it's confidence which is only equal to a lack of care. No room for artistic temperament. Had to play a joke on shameful boys, had to pull some Latin (language that is) when Lorna drags me from her bar-b-que which requires standing on her shoulders.
Timmy sleeps at the party, Cube hates me, contact's car keep stallin out, apple-bob keep ibuprofen bottle on the floor to keep his mouth pressed against his joints to amplify stuffiness. Normal inspiration no longer applies. Maybe I have to listen to preacher woman who watches me casual with her aunt having me OUT cut fileted, m all down for fraud.
Need her teeth in me. Rules're made to be broken. Certain to: never to get me, never to comply, be the only white boy for miles, a name done in chalk on a random block of Palmetto sidewalk, sweat for paper, each rivet clicks, baldy (Cube) pours three and extends his hand, and I go out front to smoke Pall Malls and fight indigestion. Rotunda, fool! or did you not know? We closed our lies and got the blast-doors.
We closed our ties and got (be honest) not okay papa bear, profess to me that you can see us carry a statue down a gray courtyard. I need you to see it, quite dependent on land here, we're makin our landing - an exercise in practicality - though I hope you see that this page (center circle) is loose and centered on risk = November dry spell = look around you = damage to animals.
Gave up on Christmas plan, psychoactive levels, definitions decided upon baby quality (free base) when certain noise is lost from overall composition - a blend that fought injustice - wanna put a bullet in my brain seein how sobriety gives me more time to work faster and take more risks: to get along with healthy sales.
Healthy sells. Australian rockers get me to an end. Anything for ma brown.