During the reign of grey rocks, some told oxidized, some gloomy quartz, some even sandy grit. In the transit of time before time into the earth but also after time, the rock grew fabled. Increase is earth, abetted by the long year light. And life as proscription dotted the meager firm plains. Thus deities in the motion towards such extremity as of reverse of obverse, were mulct and sped. Life as a keen subject produces a tale of wordless friction. Days needed language to follow guffaws and grunts. Corn must grow abetting, and deep carrot of information. Dulcet trees must presume the land. The snorting mulled thinking people in presence must begin a-singing of ramparts and spatial liberty. Lillibulero. Cattle looked slightly while grunting in the tender place, the Age of Anything Else. And so parts become, or only almost.
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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