“A Key Of CoCaiNe And She Walked The Other Way ~ maybe…”

Maybe we were trying to coexist and, singlehandedly at that, control the utter ******* CoMmOt!On before us; {{{{when}}}} we eked out a stayPUT living from = uttering maniacally ErrAtIc words at their self prepared faces. “It isn’t too close to the bone at all, actually… but far rather…

This comfortably consistent event inside of their BAG=head$: !f talK oF thE theoRy In everything really is Letting Everyone(else) breathe anyway.” If sometimes, THOUGH, we chose to not know of the

Utterly fantastical threadlike FABrication ((happening)) before us all: then that’s relatively fine, altho, “her necessary ability to walk with the talk-of-the-TowN happening

To map itself intricately AND ——> inescapably out before her now was

Its own GloriOuslY fabricated thing with endless states of aforesaid CONsistent eLatIon(!)” And if they really were actually fantastically FABRICATED {{people and}} from outright sweetly disposed-of dereliction then perhaps they’ll have to

Stop and let the right and Correct_ people th!NK for their very own selVes. “Again??” We’ve been… itching our scratches, or is it, perhaps, actually goddamn mother bloody scratching our itches and yOyO Y”AlL VICE~versa (and) To the Point of a ViceGripped Persuasions because…

either way…

we WanT The (dust to sEttLe ItSelF DoWn and to ask for the) CraftiEst Part in ALL OF THIS utterly uncontrollable TheAtriCaLity(!!)

“NOW, plEASE!!” And utter mother ******* immediately… … .”