If we did cry loud and lethargically then we definitely defined ourselves as utter mother effing
Silenced soldiers. “We’ve even pierced the surface of a garrulously futuristic and CURIOUSLY FANtastic reality and
Called ourselves swan-song AND BACK!” But… “what if we were to’ve cradled the better parts of an addled person and equally well ADVANCED… … … at both purely ANNNNNND… irreparably unique pAcE aNyWaY?” Would we THEN really get to be these
Aforesaid swan-song, return-to-PENDING-AND-aGiTaTeD-sender people? There’s a tumour of rigorously vigorous intruders who DO-NOT understand the complete state of an officially idiosyncratic masterpiece. EVEN-IF: “we have tried to inform their agitated eyes again.” Aforesaid and DAMN-DOWNRIGHT immediately, “plEASE!”
