Geese got that celebrity bona fides. Geese got throng and Stance. You know that they got culture crammed. Report to celebrity geese in your face, they got you crammed. The what's up place got geese and they say so. My town invites geese to stopping baring teeth but my town too close to mud. Your town the geese until geese, next gen fuck you. You angry up because the platitude is geese. Geese monumental green splay of poop. One looks easy, all looks easy, like you as stepping back from geese jurisdiction. What law and order near hell can stem the interdiction of just spreading out. Human history in patches of fertile earth. What's up elongated. Geese friends the sky, so that social. Turn of all within.
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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