Strike While the Iron Is Hot

Cuz while ya steel got moxie, don't nix chance if only a dot before death finds flesh rotting alot. A self-actualized fringe benefit as I racked up orbitz round sun - with increased measured, (albeit neglected) ragged, and shot thru tattered (turn shroud) - regarding chronological yardage brought to my dimming wattage - sputtering third eye blind, sans hindsight surveying extensive emotionally frenzied groveling with a lifetime penitential wreckage, whence urgent critical (update) foisted upon formerly entrenched hermetically sealed voyage - sequestered self wrought fallout, viz long stretches of time irretrievably gone with the wind found me averse toward commingling with village - peopled within sin king precincts of Lake Woebegone joyus kneaded livingsocial natives, now visa vis (nee this past and present atheist) discovered the healing power of powder milk biscuits, when accommodated within Norwegian bachelor farmer vicarage), qua pained obligation now imposed kickstarted mandate to pay dying wage clearly written along, the sub weighted psyche walls (over time) easily read across my wrinkled visage, where former cumulative years of existence pitched yours truly figuratively teetering upon precipice of abyss gave vantage written in telltale creases countenance spelling umbrage, against me - asper tonnage schlepping psychological Matthew Scott Harris "baggage," wrought from decades worth of uncultivated tillage cuz n'er did I gather rosebuds... during prime mortal teenage stretch, thus present day agonizing suffrage yawning chasm miserably houses bleak (Dickensian) testimony, sans recovered anorexic (NO...NOT... NEVER bulimic), but feebly endured desultory stage punctuated quasi (moat) towed riddled rattle trap ship of state into deadly scrimmage defies propped up moxie succombing unrelenting weathering, unforgiving savage nasty, brutal and short sabotage, wherein futile - short changed growh opportunities forfeited developmental stage opportunities introverted vehemence doth rage.