Words rely on the density of their demarcation. The boundary of meaning just wants kids. You woke at the precocious time, and the sun still. You know. Leaves in actual trees bear timeshares for something something moon. Uncatalogued advance and decline, we have numbers. Numbers afford us span, in which the word. Tilling the earth calls for time invaded. We reach an agreement vis-a-vis it's Sarah Palin, you idiot. We cannot prove this. We cannot establish sure ranks of Republican lives in god's knucklehead. Panza divisions bow.
From the thing itself, beyond seasoned aptness. Life is like living but blurred by you were listening. Aspect ratio telemetry in myriad languages smooth as rocks approaches time to look. Words piece together things or things find words. Endlessness is a choice, written big in words as shiny as geese. Words simply take the time in radiation and radical point. Stein wrote the heft of nothing special, start there or whatever. You can slowly adjust the franchise, commodity's inner workings. Subglacial quips, subliminal washouts, frantic azure in the breeze of frosty Friday: these special sparking hallways slyly enjoin. Maybe you read too much into reading too much. Further on is where you’ll stay.
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