Then there’s a tense little picture of imperfection involved in all of this. That wraparound attempt at strangling yet another stranger’s SeNsE of

LatterDaZeD derangement. “We are… bettering these tense and Densely forgotten Damsels-in-Regression and for the HEAVENLY-HELLISH(..) sakeof

Raising our minds~UP to the SKY(!)” but why haven’t they done the Dostoyevskian spadework ENOUGH-TIMES-NOW whilst manhandling their very own ScintilLATEdfeelings(?)

It’s a suddenMOST shame, actually, that they canNOT BUT-blame.. their own brain’s utter purPOSE. Said spadework isn’t exactly

=all that hectic+ally Bombastic and outwardly Awry A THING(..) “And.. ahem, AGAIN-we ASK::: why(??)” are we twiddling everythingIN PLAIN VIEW of f-r-i-g-h-t(!!) whilst they

——-))Shudder~to~thINK:: of themselves as anything else except for these purelyImpassionedPeople annnnd utterly willing

– – – “to bottle their brilliantly imaginative aforeMENTIONEDbrains.” The line’s been drawn VISUALLY between… her eyes and HIS AND IT seems as if—))

Mischief were their MiddleNames