since the World Evolved like Monkeys - no matter How much You were taught Grossness was Only Monkeys and not Just Your metaphorical Fish man/god that I've no Beef With. Thank you very much.
So we're here on Shakespeare's stage with the swidden of monument crumbling our stumblings onward with effort through lights charged. Makes sense since traveling satellites rely on charges carving solar creation erections, not dirty, just buildings we're providing the energy for building by feeding the builders with leftover barley that taxes the quelled ones paid for by standing in glory of the attempt by the glorifiers to get larger in history by impressing their neighbors.
Bhagavad Gita's influence; Qur'an; Torah; Bible; bibbly and bubbly all warrant of troubling humbly; all the way to mumbly and diffused from vaunted vaults of scripture and sacred support to average Joe mumble's bumbling retorts.
Don't we quibble a lot where my Grandparent's granges brought goodwill to share lots. By our own labor we trucked, when bare was laid to pavement. The ultimate equalizer is giving your time to them, maybe taxes maybe not, maybe the script and the barley have lost. Maybe as wheat became millet and rice, and fish came to chemicals to fetch up the price; maybe these things are important as numbers, maybe some vital junctions in vest in bed in houses are best left to choices unaroused by attention, while others with infamous clicking insiders could be best brought back to the light right beside us through calm and attentive re-evaluative focus. I'm speaking of course of our famous discourse, where our chorus is sometimes oddly or seemingly unanimous, since if boiled down to our essentials in politicos, there really only ends up being two of us or four of us. We're blue and we're informants through vestments and wallets or watches, where we tremor with rocking if robbed or corrupted. Most accidents occur where only a few miles has seen us, where someone can catch us, depending on their focus. Naturally these communities greenly grow with whatever tools they're told will unfold the tragic victory to history through those stories we gorged them into. It took pockets of innuendo where heroes unbounded interacted with their matches in ego, just as our head comics unfold our alter egos and foibles fought as our promises reflected. Such a rocket expected nothing. Nothing less. Where more was what was planted not bought, or where a fence was mended since such work is sought. Out. Perform. Be willing to dance that part with charm and vigilance dark or dreary until happy rewards just what we'll not know till the kaleidoscope stops.Part of our inheritance is wrought from antiquity bought - self-sacrifice lasting recasting our Caspian technologies in every bog and swamp of mucky life mired in messy fertility of progress from tribe stash to swamp rat. Didact that if answered flat with greed's acts redeem that chance you took when willows brooked through reedy solutions potions from every civilization we took or borrowed - these ideas. We wager every day that books and t.v.'s and family and friends' prescriptions or scriptures will vaunt our pictures and deliver our prominence to each other.
How fond we are of druthers, misdeeds, a sorrow brother, the coining sprinter outspending perhaps outliving the gestures and deeds mis-given and philanthropied proper or out-landing. and or. and or.
How many dimensions go down, or does the smaller we look mean the smaller we see and the larger the starving the more stars that we breathe. Sequentially through epiphany after epiphany knew, but couldn't see further than time and wisdoms' cue. Or, we'll trouble a robot to need oil, but how nicely, when we don't eat the brown rice our bodies are after? So questioned hereafter our Plutonic disasters, where cash crossed the rafters without nets or with daggers, and subsets hereafter will know those decanters and add chalk to their grip not fumes of burnt lanterns.
I'm parched of the moment. I'll dimension a round up of upcoming disasters, and grow naturally towards the path that we're after. You know when it gets there what fate has re-mastered for soundtracks that hum in omnipotent equations, so frames in brain lenses can pitch to the Sable coast, so that the feverish host of fear or fun time can repair the loss from our apparent misjudged events.
Ergo: oops. Egalitarian uniter. like sports, or the sounds, or a super-collider. Reform can accomplished when rays of reason give form to our prime and our season, when time tosses lease to our spawn once emerging.
May the harken of history give pity to our dreams. Merry may recast our hope everlasting, while we trudge through the toil of this annual swidden. Bark loud at the moon and trod on forbidden, but keep some promises safe so our children will get them.
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