She’s been breaking-down the onslaught of triggerHAPPY words WHO FOUGHT to entice altogether mesmerised eyes BACK TOGETHER again. She’s even being a stealth-laden VerSioN of her latter-YAY!! person. Presuming the other-end of antagonistically pragmatic TH!NGS, we’ve dipped our MANICURED toes in enough touché-TuRmoil OF TODAY to cause forever ALTOGETHER-SMILES to gather-and-grasp at A BrandNew Try… . AT TRY-HARD DOMINATION, please.
“She’s not the only version OF A reCONfigured g!rL who isn’t readily prepared ANYWAY… to stare-and-speak… and to EXCEEDINGLY see
====) All Of These Rather… radicalised things ACTually happenings inside of her
LayaboutMind someTIMES.” But why weren’t we good-and-decent individuals at turning our motormouth minds SILENTLY toward…
The Slowest Snail-pACE PROcedure-L!ST THAT HAS EVER BEEN imagined? But possibly because… probability has it that we’ve been bAskinG inside of these outlandish LeVeLs of UP-ALL-NIGHT mesmerisation: only ever, though, L!V!NG inside of an unprovoked and -PROVEN MIND. She’s
Voluntarily vied for A VIEW TO A spiffing THR!LL for all of the yakYAK things which sInK_AND_sWiM within the InnerReaches of a problematically AbStracT anomaLISA, actually: when she’s been !MMED!ATELY brought to aforesaid task and blatantly asked – “but how-in-the-hell did she ever (EVEN) stand-tall and walk in equally preordained measurements PERHAPS, and with these
PiedmontPEOPLE of previously misleading circumstances HAPPENING?” Because they haven’t, and they WON’T… … ANNNNND they ABSOLUTELY mother******* shan’t
______ ever get to FULLY underSTAND. An agitated man’s favouriteSENSE OF DISCRETIONARY DIRECTION
