Rasputin was great the fire the beard the legend of rearing application and those eyes plus poison as the cure for poison the ways of polity in a crushing society he fed the breeze of theology to lovely definiteness and surely Ladies which is only good news as Mother Russia starves or radical and anyone can be swayed toward the ritual of graceless enemy the throng of theory propelled by a certain grease and ascertains elaborate confirmations of character dreck while foreseeing the rise of sinking culture parlayed to historical effect within the steel-girdered mysteries of a trodden populace for whom the vision or burden of monstrance becomes the colllective itself and a fine meal for Tsar and family until other molecular arrangements occur in the future of sinking past
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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