. . . comes the age of none, to hear to bear witness of each other’ work, are we going are we doing, then we must not, then we care of, why are we even trying, when all needs to be, hey, yo. Donchatinkso, lets just pick up that stick and ke3p slashing and never […]
. . . conspir3 me a perspiration of noggin, does not stop knocking on thin air, wont it ask the moon to laugh in mid summer June, while the sun fixes its eye on a flower tower.