I've been floating about on the jetsam of life, when I stopped just to ponder why it is with such stifling profound prolific articulation that my memory conjures images created with half the facts of limited information which in it self is quite limitless.
Congeniality can be venomous depending on the stability of which it is laid for such dismal thoughts can be that which sway entire generations from happiness towards dismay. Now if I may for a moment portray my own conjecture indeed it is the thing that can levitate hectares of nothing.
If you only believe, that's is at least half the battle, twice in one week. If disapproval is what you seek than sleuth forward, because the only direction everything is truly going is in a downward spiral. I be showing you how to do the thing that you do when the soup spoon is too big use the hole in a screw.
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