If there was to’ve been an inkling for anything then it’ll surely have been the inkling to thread that Neanderthal needle and cause it all – to typically take-UP its very own sHaPe of Instantaneous ExiStenCe. Tensely speaking, she’s opened-on-up her
Shallow soul to all of these (other) mustered together “somewhere-and-someHOW(??) people: Piedmont, indeed, and drinking inside of MiMe-OuT-LoUd Minds.” She’s up to her new tricks again and bricking-it, actually, at the state of
Implanted bliss. “And we cannot do these tongue-tied things with our ticker-tape brains again if everybody else is seeming to’ve felt – totally upside-down now and tied to their typified tether.” It won’t make immediate sense and it will not enter into its own world of utter… “anyway AND either.” And it certainly won’t
Want for “unforgettable delirium… Not. Right. Now. Anyhow.” However (much)… she’s been striking her mind out enough tones-of-time to pepper the whole damn process in purely-both-surely professional PROCEDURE. It’s their
Very best pursuit at staking latter-day claims over these overthrown people of, YET AGAIN, persuasion via perilous Piedmont people… maybe.”
