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The manner of this speech gives you such a sense of depths below the well in the passage & I’m sure you’ve much to drink with a borrowed stomach. What’s scarier is that you’ve found yourself in the yellow house in the clouds again, by the quick effect of the wet wind coming in, you’re moved in another direction. That voice under the water seems to caress any description of the backyard grave & you wait for alarm or remonstrance that has died on his lips at the hotel. Now, you’re familiar with the bubbles & the face as a chance of annihilation. I know the world is full of chaos here but out of this, I create my senses: hearing, seeing, touching, smelling, & tasting for the beauty of everyday life. Your choleric frankness of their commons causing you to be feared at bottom, where the mind is a factory of activator.

Copyright © | Year Posted 2025




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