Habitual little also cans. They were just checking in on themselves again… when their hot-worded ears got burnt right the way to the, AhEm, wick of their entire element.
As lonely as she can and shall get to be cReaTiVeLy HaPpY, there seems to be an other outlandish opportunity for the jilted people at the Altar of StriF£ to understand something u-t-t-e-r-l-y
Vacuous actually. She was meant for this, meant to kindly CONtrol her own … senses which hold their own scarcity of social scope actually; when other people’s A-Z anxieties add UP++ to something worth… “just
Enough to antagonise the right kinds.” That’s called Life: on another level of procrastination altogether
