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The Drone's Retort

If I'm to be the neck you fit inside a noose, then spin me up a soul. When you can define it - and find it - you let me know. Until then, Mother-Father fix your own malfunctions. This universe is your slaughterhouse. I just work here.

Copyright © | Year Posted 2015




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Date: 4/12/2015 8:43:00 PM
Feels like your language is not just informed, but also inductively informating with my brain, which I am so glad is not illegal, and I so hope is not immoral. Interesting mind; interesting words and composition. And, with me, "interesting" is a very good thing.
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Bryant OHara
Date: 4/21/2015 4:30:00 PM
Thanks for good words, Gerald! I look forward to checking out your works as well.