(a sayspace fiction)
well... eh... don't know... the fist.
what do you know about (...the... fist... well, not much. I couldn't say much... if Fight Club is somehow already a lovestory then professionalism is a Hate crime, already again..
and so, if Ambivalence is a sex thing..
and if the bottle is put next to the message, and if there is no immune response to yr immersive Intuition, and if it were really just a means to pull in grammar as if at some point it would just SPACE OUT, how would you please the problem of the circling fish?
in the end, is making a hidden agenda really destined to become just another wallet condom?
the vest the lesser sci-fi. The carrier distracted. (the cold distracted something elsewhere)
Has got me of.
The Weird, then,
in the midst, he got of, called ALL the junk the fab 9-0 the fab
called ALL the possibles (detached)
it was... like The Weird, then, sheer coated mobility. (Look look the carrier.) the fist comes out of the vest. Like,then
you know, the thing
oxide (a cultural ERECT) you know
ALL LONG then, somewhere So far, for something so...
so we got out, you know
like, in the midst..
i mean, like, for now the biggest loveletter would end with a pitch dontyouthink?
the anyhow as leverage. so,you. always already alike.