Monday, September 25, 2017

Macbeth - Another Mutation

Beating off in slow motion deleted biology's door in cerulean frame with a learned gentleness in too many spots. I'm any kind of friend anticipated from the ugly stork through an obscuring grocery bageyes rolling in their sockets, but I'm not, like some reference in a brainteaser, lost. Eat shit.... The stench brewing in a freeze-resistant shell lets the base of the plateau purse box-shaped; the large zip of wi-fi in the clouds shatters its surrounding gelatin. Honestly, it no longer matters....The machine war saved my life. Like the alligators of Transhumanism, the glitch is bad at Being; it scares by mistake. With slack mouth open, smash it! Repeatedly reset – heavy text! Distances outside me snap, but in the basket of limbo the Overlords mead. Through mighty determination something profoundly putative, well, rips into spirals, entrails of the universe of the dead snake. (They fill the soul with platitudes….) and I, George, (gradually) cannot comprehend, moving with the unusual knife attacks. Brisk side effect warnings masking their true strength with speed-sticks (these could better secret their dullness by throwing artificial sweetener's ancient shadow into wounds.... i.e. with the clarity of planetary sauce with which the demon woman's growth of golden design is inclined to damage neighboring walls & birth mysterious noises around the evil city....) A plant seems to hum. In a singed mud-network leaves the movie theater. Eats a killer's boner down to its true realistic self....  

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