i am therefore i reconstruct and fill in but being lost has lost it’s
STOP these are not our thoughts until now emergent.cya
my is no longer connected to the i which begs the question, were they ever? a) i am B)ut let’s take stock, you fingers crossed thoughtzis( ,
i been thinkin … i can see my hands very well from here.. nails manicured by indented tooth i’d wager they look better than yours -flashy supple tricky- when i take these fingers out and slap them around and about on the top of my head i think what is this aching drum thing Sounding forcefully equal open and closed echo solid skull in mind..? the stretched skin is just right and pounding while you can
ba bu ba bu buh ba availed cheeks open and close the mouth, mozart dimpling pretty good! that lends something to the slapping the dead skin off but what i really want is to deliver a right cross smack on my jaw!
if i grab this throat (i’ve found) with my left hand and squeeze all around my esophagus my right hand instinctively grasps my knee as if my leg should keep me upright throughout this investigation by what right??? the slapping, i think it was the slapping, that has caused this headache if causation is still a thing, or ever was, let’s remember how it felt because i shook off the initial impact.
the considered opinion is to slap harder but i was caught by a still head of hair and caressed it with my fingers down over my neck tho the neck has grown bonier than i remember it in the good times who remembers the good times? well i remember thinking about them if that’s the same
let’s continue down, my lesion peels itself off as i finger these pectorals steady as spaghetti and the rash turns to scaly geezer dust at least tastier than oregano, ha i joke things could get ugly while spraying in all the directions necessary to arc things true only once if you use your wish wisely A I got legs shaky but nervous = dangerous akimbo a sleight and afoot until it’s time to get up and work, let’s say, the legs that hold it all together therererererererere because things die out so nothing is remembered that’s why fucks are so misbegotten
if you need my i.d. i’m a legitimate source to tell you because i’m as lost as y’all that could have been my last breath before sense grabbed me and made me inhale sure, i’m a phony dead person, the kind that can still type the kind that probably has several more years of pretense who can predict?
knowing kills living sense remarking giving, oh, if only things were so easily meaning i could reach you now and grasp a hand we might cuddle up in a who can tell these days are over they show in my feet if i could manage to kick my head i would i won’t kid you, i’ve tried not recently but when i was younger i can knee myself right fine do so on an irregular indication things are coming to a head so to have spoken
