Wednesday, February 04, 2004

this year is safe mode, which curls over the landscape made slightly less perfect by a random build up. all kindnesses dwelt in the surge forward over masked terrain and into the extra version of rippling. a wild language exists, distant as the sentence filling these vending weapons. our days aren't practice beyond the piping in the distance, tho distance forms a change without even preparation. school has been called. aliens arrive with vigour, for change seems to attend the delicate nature that has been bought. drink your coffee, Sir Denis, hisses Dr Fu Manchu, DDS, while entropy wraps its little hands around. well, these bombs are for the good, in documents where we could explain suddenness and 'slight disagreement'.

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