The people know no real bounds, only ever their displayed displeasure which tends to course sickeningly on through when least suspected

Their misshapenly awry metaphoricalised ventricles are seemingly so a crazily splayed discoursing occurrence in persuasive discourage – when anger causes them all to wander and wreak wrecking-ball havoc

Upon only themselves, you see…
We Do Not Mean to feel this particularly peculiar way whatsoever, we break our bountifully stood upright, staunchly enraptured to capture brains to make a softly spoken difference indeed – albeit spiked by all of these outrageously meandered atop overwhelmingly paralysing misgivings swarmed to form utterly within

Which none of us, trust us above anything else in this homegrown world of ours, ever dreamed to dream to beg, inescapably borrow and ask for

Why can we not simply give up each and every single one of these irrationally stood upside-wrong-way-down silhouetted ghosts of our fed-upon souls which pale us into self loathing insignificance

Please answer We this, because to be free would simply Be… Absafuckinglutely Everything

In this homegrown world of ours

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