is it true then that the twin of death {does} show up early and late and the nile error so tilting on somthing going on in the bile of one "Maters" and lately passing the marcho and his speno coming often in fear and yhell was somthing to take after in writing then to my knowledge was marcho and so much coming out in the word of maters nile was the litter of some writing having to do with nothing less coming out the mind of a child but the notion of kinetics running the door of the mast in so forth what comes out in politics of which is able to afford the reader and the mast in people the word comes out much like the taste of science and much like science calls forward the self to answer to higher grounds in reasoning and no one alike finds the call to the self much like the personal notion that science was likely the mark for enjoying a day without pearls or like otters or flowers or whatever the child can conjure up when pulling staap on politics on grounds in science where people likely {might} run into the same problem. i however think kinetics sucks!
only the well word in philosophy works the mind and kinetics have no word only sort of ticks on how to press your mind into something not so reaching in which you or i might term that one "Mans" dream of turning his place of endearing into more like a damn frog. i wish that people would not have missed me in their affairs in relating to otters but moreso i find pushing my way out of my writing and taking time for this human appearance to altogether disapear into the depth of considerable empiricism in the science and take all for me to find isolation at the most pinnacle of entoge. no more but much like a {simple} isolation and also no people to stare at might play a game of light fixation on my suspended crown of xenografik visuath. i know latin can crawl up on me in so respect to take on for the next piece of unusual takes on the mind and the entoge therefore pads its way around much like a bird or a snake revealing the human to the constructive play of light and strange forground on perditions. no other than the lletha american way of living in my life to term, i make out certain things that might take the next person forward much like my arms and hands guide my amphibious instinct to take the cite of suspension to the next locus of pressing the bile word out on something take on in the next susposition in what realm might make more wild and aware on any poet on what a writer and a reader share where nothing but the staring take into and somthing haveing the nile up to anything really.
