I know it, it's all lavish, it's luxury, but it comes at a cost to your betrayal to the ones that call themselves home when really I'm home alone and home for all of you. I'm the presence that should be deserved so I wrote a book that would help you express where I'm coming from, it'll be a drawing journal and I should write about where Gambit Too goes in order to save flesh in case someone wants to read it. It should be a good old fashioned chance at making this a little more seemly, without the rotten feelings of you and us. This should remain a place in our hearts however, it's a real mainstay literature in how I found all of you out, and I'll keep updating it until it sounds clear and written. It should be about how I met you, it should be how I designed everything, it should be the sound of your voice. But in truth it takes two books to even focus on one of them, and before I said I have a problem dropping two things at a time, so this will be about my feelings for you and the other book will be about the plays. It's Super Tricky, by the way. That's what it's called, a super book with upheaval and amassment that would keep me cool. It's really a pencil diary designed to tell you what I'm drawing about. Drawing, being a super cool technique designed to rule the world, carries it's plays all over and I do my best to describe everything about it, and act cool at the story it presents for us. It's really apocryphal and designed to duly await you, should you return to ask what I'm getting up to or where we stand in the really important stuff. I write here to give you some simple answers to obvious questions that I would skip otherwise. It's the simple stuff in this one, like writing a journal and keeping lies separate from it. Being honest and believing in yourself so you can read the other book with a fresh head. It's being honest and truthful I really want to design, but it's true, I feel flustered, I feel old, I feel like I really have to nat together words when really I should ask what I should say better and more clearly. Like I did before, how does she make you feel? She makes me feel wanted, like I could play with her and chase the day away no matter how dark, she makes me feel like I'm a monarch playing with majesty and wealth all day, it's really quite cool how she thinks about me when she crosses it, it's always lax when I'm with her, much more calming, I feel like she rests me and makes me feel such joy, I'm elated enough to say it's not just contempt, it's absolute authority. It's a bliss that makes me feel so high I can't always reach it, it makes me forget it's so good, I lose my mind to it. I'm losing my mind in a good way and it's healthy for me to hear her and stand idly by remembering that when it comes it's so magnificent I'm carried away into the new youth of the world and can actually hope to write even when I'm sick, ill, and lonely. It's carried away by the fact that I don't have her in the drawer and maybe the proper vows haven't affixed, but I'm okay with saying it here. I vow that I'll always cherish you, I'll always think of ways to get in, I'll always be gentle, I'll sit and listen the best I can, and I will make miracles happen. So I feel like it's a miracle, it's a miracle I found this girl out and it's mixed and sultry that we would have something in a boat together if it hadn't lifted before, it has now in this note, I feel better but I'm not all the way there yet. What will this book do for her? This book will make her see that I'm into her, guaranteed, and I'm talking about the one that still makes me numb but it's full, she'll see how I think and about how to think about herself better. She'll reach and say it's a light, she'll really moon that I wrote it and be impressed, I know it. I think she'll like it but cut through the part with the stories until she realizes what I'm trying to say and puts two and two together, I think it'll click with her, what I'm reading now. It's a lot to say but I think it's magical, I think the magic will get to her. What about the next book? The next book will rivet her, it will make her want to read every bit of it, it's so fun, she'll have so much fun with it. This book is rather dire, why do you believe that? Because it's a warning to people much more than my other books, I always put warnings because I've had bad experiences, but this one warns you so much it gets at you. It's alive, it's a warning but it's a good book of epic proportions. How did you defeat WoW so quickly? I went into a private server that still had me nutting and I made some equipment to help fly it over everything and it worked, it was a proof of concept that made it into the real game with some real equipment and we're thinking about taking it over but already have in agreement. It won't come midnight, it'll come at this hour and it's so full, I can fill my pockets and barely breathe, but I had to stop and sit and write for this to appeal to the masses more. Is masses what you want? Great masses, wrapped in adventure, never quitting. Do you want them to think you're God? Just advanced, advanced in the natural order of things, advanced in the book, a late copy of someone who's real and just got better in tech. I want to be the one that found it out, the one that made the puzzle together, the one that helped people, I want to help people actually play games and read literature and experience the good and true nature of life as a freedom to us all. That's pretty good, how about some game enhancements? I'll go into it in my book, but the coke is free and it's all pretty liberal, you shoot stuff and get more stuff, you pilfer it and it's real in the book, just be sure who you're selling it too until we fix the place and it all drifts back to me, in which I'll pay for you to be happy no matter where you spill. Any warnings? Try to keep it off the auction house as much as possible, try to vendor goods to actually get them unlocked and choose a friendly vendor for you. How do you find this out? It's hard to, you really have to guess it, but trial and error works out fine. You really have to pay attention to what you hear in your head when playing any game to see if it works fine and you should keep it installed if it's great for you. Only then can you make it, only once you hear and be brash through the humms and haws of what it tells you can you make the game real for yourself. But it should all be unified, it should all show up at my step and I should be able to help you unless you're poorer than what I've seen coming, you always get paid however in lush materials strapped to calm you and give you bliss, don't question us, we're here to help everything. But ask away, ask anything you think is mad and even ask us in your head to help get the clue. It's a new level full of interesting folk and lessons that need to be made. It's just generally where you would find most of the stuff you're looking for, only they divided the zones and made it by level, which they keep adding to. It's like a short story you would dwell on creating things and zones would play as a mall in suit. It's a mall, but you can get shot short and dwell on it and they aren't really here to lose, they play on a suit themselves and play you out of the world if you play them. It's really only set for those who've learned it, playing in silence, trying to deliver the words to say what we meant to do with ourselves if we could, kindly. It's something as a sentence to us that we could go beat you up and steal your stuff, but we're only in it for the drugs and what we can make with them. It's really just that, and you have to play a lot to make anything rule, I'll try my best when I get back on there but for now I'm writing something nasty. Like saying something rude, I'm playing music over her and I really feel a force drive me back to her so I might turn it down. I did it enough to hear her but not when she whispers which is the fun part, but hey, I just need to hear her better enough so I don't feel bad or empty. It's some music playing that helps me remind myself of who we really are, some folks, pretty much empty without the song and the cloud and the modem. Saying it's forgiving is like living alone. Empty to say we've sinned a good writer without reading his book, if he really needed you he wouldn't be a writer, he'd be alone. That's how I feel when it's dwelling, not when it's in short purpose and impact. Short purpose and impact can reflect you if you really draw them in some notes, it could help improve the impact of your prose as well as your humor. Drawing light on these things is making it so played, they forget you. Editing might turn my world upside down in this literature, but it's still better responded in full. Fully coating the essay would mean having some point, which is there if you've paid attention, but if you're in for a delightful read, try something else and park it at this point since it's really a confessional. You say it works, but it's not a confessional read, I guess it's not, it's really an impact of true proportions I have to edit a little bit and I keep forgetting what I wrote. Thinking something of harm would drive me mad however, I must believe in myself. You can edit your book in any way you like but I think there's serious harm in it, you might miss out a page you were trying to read later. So I'll suggest editing if you're working on something that isn't like this, or like me, but please be the reader. Be the reader to suggest that it's worth looking at if you want it to mean something to you. Be your biggest fan, I am. I am my biggest fan but I still love the looks on their faces as I plural out all the richness. I'm thinking of a big fan but it's a rich book and kinda loves me, it's worth saying I'm into it. The batch about the wet story needs to quit though, there won't be anymore leading manuscript into this page and you can go write about it if you want, I hope I gave you the tools to lean into it better, it can really come from anywhere. All things count, we're hoping you write. We're hoping you write back, all of it. Fat buck in the making, I was so sick last night, I could barely get out of bed after a short day of writing. You have to be careful for your health, so evenly put, but don't catastrophe yourself, you really just don't know what to write about or can't calm down in such a way that inhibits you from writing a lot. I smell terrible and I won't take a shower until later, I really want to finish this book today but I have to try and release my grasp on the keys a little, I was pretty hellbent yesterday. It's forgiving to say the latter of this book will remain her, some livestreamer I think tastes pretty nice, as some resound into the madness and state of this endeavor. We're friends or at least listening carefully to one another and although sometimes it's shlock it's pretty forgetful, to me at least, who has memory issues and reading clearly is all I do to prepare for that. I really am a magical being, I think magic has a way of finding me and I carefully overdubbed an intelligent ET that she should open the door to me, only to get the answer and fix me, then she closed it. It was like we were living in the stars as plants and urban explorers that weren't heat treated, yet still clinging to earth like a novel. It's said that the plant, our plant in our head, got heat treated, but I'm still trying to roll out of it and start something more futuristic with a cold head that can talk to these creatures. Being in the bend of fiction means you have to keep an eye on reality, but when you're hellbent and deadlocked into fear, triumph or calling, it can get ridiculed. It's really a cemented blow to think I should be doing good things with the magic and not just collecting females in a fever rush, that is, when I figure it out, and it's alarming but I just might. Magic includes telling rice to fairy tales, I don't really want to confuse you, it doesn't help on a daily basis so much as you think and it's quite annoying being right all the time, to get something fair, I would be just as cool being normal and mostly land chicks with a working system that didn't eat fat or lard enough. I would have been cool so not for the paper, which would have been about the same, but it feels better now that I have something I've always coddled like it was true, like I was magic. I always believed I was special, it just needed to come out and the fragrances or the frequencies weren't enough until I'd lost it and gained it in some killing sickness. The right of this chapter is to further myself with the neurology of who I should be eating online and where I get my separate tongue to dive deeper into her color. It's a bright light, surely there must be more. It's tricky, I really have to fall apart to get the answers some time, so I did, but it didn't last on them, they were mad at me for being tricky and apart from sense. They just don't like me that madly, I wouldn't guess it's because I'm around other pills that make me very sleepy. They aren't comfortable hearing me figure it out, they aren't even comfortable with me being sleepy. It's when I truly fail, they seem to laugh, but it's a hard joke. I don't want to fail them, I really see them as an upper and not so much demeaning, but they are and it's from their sadistic nature that I really find it out later it's not so much that but something detailed. A relationship with me that counts the stars and they're really hoping I make it out, but not after a detailed look at what I'm doing here. If I could write it all out for her so I could be sane and wise and not have anything more to write about for a day or something, it would be nice, but nicer for her, who'd get to see some desire or freedom. They want the same thing I want but we both know I'm painfully far away from being with them in the sort of dimension I crave. I might visit them or something, I might do something practical like say hi, but the demon in me doesn't live anymore, so I think I'm safe with that. I should just continue being practical and being myself can come away to some literature they might read. I really want them to read what I write but it's sorta boring if you're trying to find a hit, or something you might read to another person. She's so close to me on a daily basis of thinking of her, I really start to tune what might be there if she left. I get worried about seeing her go, I never want it to occur, I have a life with her that I can nurture and shape. Might seem a little far-fetched, but I don't mean this as a sick tremendous pressure, although it is, I mean it as a simple farmboy love story that could fall out of the pasture. It's simple, I just like her, I don't feel mean by her, I don't get numb. I really want to meet her but it'll be hard to find her. There was a chance for me to meet her a day ago but I felt dumb and didn't know about her for too long. Honestly, I should just take the character and say these guys are my life and write some narrative they're forced to read. I would take it so surely that it would become one of these fanfictions you know you write on a daily basis for porn and hooters and blow and scoff, but it's living that makes living harder. I would have to write something I'm not prepared for about real people, but really I'd make it about their characters. I'd make it something like a staple in wealth and blow, but if it's their character's they wouldn't really read it, they'd just get lost as to what I think of them. Which is cool if they like me but really they have to find out what is going on here. She needs to be informed but it would take longer books to write and scape before I actually got around to seeing her free. I wrote this one joke about them that really sunk for me, it played at a theater in some underground realm about the voices getting to them in minecraft. But I didn't really think about it enough and it couldn't come to play more than the voices and ridicules I've heard before, so I really have to think about what to write for her, but I should do her separate and just keep it late, something when I know her and have had the pleasure, something really far into it. Not if it doesn't work out, approach-ably, this time I've learned better. Something nice, but now that I think about it, the climbing art of this era of livestreaming really needs a vote of confidence about what they're doing to keep them going. I would make something nice, something that would show them it's not about cool things or being famous, it's about finding yourself out. That's what this book is. They make a lot of money in their group but I don't know the financial situation, I just assume they're fine with the numbers they have. All they do is play video games, but I could use that to say they live in games and have interactions, but it's really about playing the game that I would write about more. Honestly I would just watch and keep the script something incredibly different if I wasn't trying to bone them. That seems uncouth and behaviorally unwell for me at this time. Not all of them are friendly enough for me to want to write about outside of some get well soon script, and know I'm trying to keep it interesting. Writing them into Gambit Too seems a little unwell, but if it's natural, it helps. Honestly I want to do it about their strength and confidence. Their strength and confidence keep me coming back whole heatedly. It's about their strength and confidence that lends me something very new. It would have to be a battle anime, it would have to ring good. I can't really write it about them until I know them, however, so I'll have to watch the stream and recount it. Battle anime, ring well, watching the stream. I used to talk to them crazy, I really did, just to the screen, like they heard. Sometimes they would respond, but there wouldn't be a delay, it would be like a bot was scratching us to rekindle a friendship. Anything would work if I just played out the delay, I usually just scratch at it, but I can make it a story where I can speak in. Usually I haven't been able to speak to them, but if it's like a mystery where I can't figure out if she's speaking to me or not, it would seem like a betrayal if I'm not right about this. So I'm speaking to them, it's a battle anime where we invade digital realms, I have to watch the stream and tell them what's going on, not in chat, but on blue speech, and we win when they do something right. There's a secret underworld to games, the screen goes bleach, steady warfare, this guy is ready for anything, join me on an epic quest. The dick you should feel, however, needs to be something out there. It starts with me at my desk, ready for another day, you might feel the arrogance of the long strategy starting up, but it's really about me finding someway to play with them and have fun. Even when I'm sat sitting alone, I can watch and be apart of something greater. Terrific, I'm totally burnt out at the thought of this. It needs to be different but better. It can't be a story of what I say to them online, there needs to be like a coded office and I've taken away some steam to replace it another way. I'm not in a room, I'm in a room with them playing games and we're really together tonight. It's starting to seem like I should write something they like, and that's Gambit Too. Unless it's about the war we face which is in nothing I'm writing right now. The war we face is all about caped baddy in some pathetic agreement that we should starve on the platform, they're really waging it and it's a far off. I don't really know what's going on, but it should be reavered by some stuff I've been doing and eventually cane in some majesty where I'm allowed free from time to elfhood. Elfhood would be magic, it'd be about making a way with the guiding forces and finding a majesty to life. It wouldn't be about expensive mining all day, it would be about the time we saw ourselves in lored centuries ago. I should almost forget them, but that feels wrong, I always come back. I keep getting skinny about the people I love to watch, I probably just need to think of something I like and I'm already writing it. It shouldn't just be about them, it should be about events I cause and lead otherwise I'd fall back. This one I'm writing now is about getting the blade into World of Warcraft and it's really chummy with some of the girls I watch and has to do with them seeing me in a new light when I'm found at the table. It's something like a rather interesting tale. A really interesting one, I'm outlining it now, but there will be another part that'll make it read like a proper vested literature. I'm starting out regaling everyone about what happened and then the next part is just exactly what happened day to day. It's a little scummy but I have to think that it would end up like that if everything was in a good place. Things would be scummy and it would always dive and turn, but I'm a great man, a spectacular foe, and a literature in turn. So I'm writing it right now and it'll drive to a newer piece when we have something else to dawdle at I can show everybody. I've been trying to get them to play WoW but it's typical. I would seem like a better vest than all those people who didn't have a mount and tag. It's something world resounding that sounds better in literature where it's written, but it'll be dug up and properly essayed when I get the force of the chance. So that's taken care of, and I get to explore her more in a fantasy which escapes me here. I really want everything to stay further along the road, when I've written more and expect less, when I have it. Gambit Too only got 900 views so far and it's just escaping me if people actually read it or not. Hopefully if I keep writing it, there will be people who come back for more. I come back for more but it's not accosted, I'm not usually asked back unless it's something I need to hear and then I rarely hear it anymore. I can barely understand anything anybody says and it's self loathing, I tell you. It should be I have something ordinary like a job but I'm truly out and crazy, so the disabilities will have to work until I'm living with my mother or family where I don't have to spend money on rent and can get a bad disorder dealt with through copious drugs and remedies. I would probably meet some friends at work, too. Something calm past through me, a thought, maybe I should just get evil and never work and continue to write so I can pay a day in the past where I actually have something, it's a little fatal for me working right now with the cold but I can bet I'll get better from it and eventually avenge myself in some way, shape, or form. It's honesty that brings us to the page that you should be doing what you want and if you can, you should do it however much it hurts or you have the sniffles. Doing good things is almost always a plus and can come big ways to get you out of trouble and harm. I feel good about this now, not about the chicks, not about where I stand with them, but someday when I have something it'll feel like they know exactly who I am and it's all I hope for, no confusion. I hear it all the time but never plays in the TV or the radio. Don't turn around, that kind of stuff. The real shocking stuff we hear on a daily basis but never return with the audio forgiveness to the punk that rails it out but I can't do that anymore. I see her and that's all I need to do to figure out she's working for me and perfect. I might not be the best dressed and usually casual, but I can find a way into her heart even if it's not drawing or manuscript. She'll probably feel sick reading this and other books but I can't keep her delayed, she plays video games all day so she probably doesn't like reading, but those curious can find me here and it's all special. I got her spore and my cold lifted, I even got out of bed to write. She's perfect, she's so sweet and kind but should try and help herself first like I should. We're so alike, we really have a dis-morphia that could last longer with each other than not, even if it's just to feel better about it. I feel better about everything with her, I tried to carve her out of the screen until they just asked if I wanted it, and that's how it works online, it's viral and splendid. Beats so fast, I heard her knocking a little bit. It's cruel and unusual how the world works when you're mentally ill, I somehow believe I do it to myself more cruel today having found something good than what I normally do that doesn't ramshackle me. I feel like I can venture but not deliver enough into what I'm saying because it's a chat room but I feel like coding it would help me a little better in case the mods notice. I prefer writing out long ended responses that won't get me banned on this book rather than chasing everything I know happened in a book read on the chat. Making it blamed would say I'm no man, but truly it is courage and I want you to know I'm trying to solve everything you secretly rant about and it's moving today more than ever. It's evil afoot and God's son prophesied it would be gotten rid of. It's just moving to the sight that we've seen me lie about Jesus and I prefer that to thinking I actually know the being. I would stand elated by her but I wish I could just get her so I could fool around with the others. I'm sick and tired of being a sick kid and don't want to go outside until she's found me in the right light. I'm really sick of her causing me suspension of dread like she has a boyfriend that doesn't really work for her and I'm here but she doesn't know it helps her. I'm sure it helps her, why wouldn't it? It's not like it causes her grief if I'm with her DNA, it probably helps. Good is good, I had bad effects on others and this is canned on the surface as something that I'd do to complete myself and I just hope she feels the same way when she figures out what I really do for her. It's like saying it's all a manifestation of evolution, but really it started very simply and kept rolling like that until we forgot. Forgetfulness brings cruel the manifolds of our destiny heard about from those who realize there's something out there but don't really believe it. They call us crazy, lofted, dramatic, but we're only out so far because they've taken time to push us away and fear it. It's a lofty goal to go out with someone with a following, I've never had the push for it but I get a sense I need to have a following too, only something less private and more mature. More mature than hers, but still subtle and outright and not just the people who like reading, the people who want to know about me and what it is I'm gifted with and want to get going. I probably have a better chance than her in the long run but it's keeping going I need her for. I'd be distraught if something happened and she were just taken away from me, I'd really feel ill and need a replacement, but I fear that replacement wouldn't come. She's hesitant in reality but where I feel her speak to me in my clear as dough head, she's really frightened by it but wants to see where us goes. I should convince her that it's something supernatural, that it's something within our guild to heal. Something so magic as if to respond with everything alongside it is really quite phenomenal, but I'm missed with medicine and I have a mind that dwindles on every keep, I have forgetfulness that even after turning water into wine, I would still forget about the true power since I really just want to have a normal life filled with excitement and steady graphing what I need to power. It's power that drives us into the fertile nature of what we live for, without power, we wouldn't be able to see our feet touch the floor. It's in this computerized life that although needs to change for the better, will, is that so ready flourish that I can ponder a living thing in a normal tone without feeling too bored or overwhelmed I'm not doing my own polish. I like the freedom of just watching her but what's terra forming is that practical people won't think of this well, they'll be confused and whole heatedly contempt of court thinking I need to be locked up. I feel like she's sorta there too, she's not a man, she's never had a bunch of people reject her, she has her own problems, but I doubt it's dementia or the cold mine. I doubt she has problems but how she's acting in betraying my kindness leads me to believe she does. No matter what it is, I want to be with you, and I want to lead a cheerful life with you. I want to be there for you no matter how rough and I keep time in explaining it like this, you complete what half I can't respond to, where I have little control. It's something so vital it's like hurting so weakly I can't even breathe. Responding to the tone of the manuscript, there has to be good for there to be a good. There has to be something you believe in in order to stay here and write and be able to accomplish things and there needs to be things you believe in to accomplish anything. I rule out the steady joke of having it played on someone else's screen because they're like me and just have a steady job. I have a steady job too, although it looks rather responding to psychopath detail that I hear on the blueprint of my mind sent after it happens. It's really fast and has a coal mind of depravity. It's so decrepit seeing her leave me for eternity where I can't stand being away from her, it's like reaching into a cold deck of playing cards believing I'll only need you today and not tomorrow. It's really a lie, you need people and usually the people you click with like this, the people you feel growth from, otherwise it's a lie, you'll get poisoned, you won't be able to handle yourself or anything. It'll feel like a cold jest. I'm pretty sure everyone's just lying to her, making her unwell to prove they have some power over me and her because of the evil that lurks. This evil is coldly out today and I will parade you as a farmer, not a jerk. Someone simple, not someone who wanted to die, I don't plan on killing you unless you make further mistakes. I don't lean sheepishly on the lie you tell me, I have a plan, it's to ridicule you for being without it, without me, without sense. I'm truly a powerful guy and she thinks she's not good enough for me, but she is. It may not be tomorrow when I see her but I'll breathe deep and ask to take a picture or something hung in my room to contempt me into a court of betrayal that surely is just do to the unreality of the situation. I'll keep her hung, printed out, and reminding me that I'll one day see her again and she might have more to offer. One day I might cross her in good luck or terrible fortune, but I'll keep trying and I hope you all try with me. I used to be all about music speaking for me, now it's time I keep it to the side because there's no music like her. I just want to love her in silence so piss off if you won't make the cold remedy that suits us. They made something along the lines of profusely her grazing on me, which is supposed to be me writing for her. It's quite grave and they thought I was God when really I was the Holy Spirit, the kinetic energy that brought God to life. There had been trials and errors getting it to work in humanity, but in pen and paper and reading and computing especially, I live as a warning for your further betrayal into insanity of some people who need desperately to learn from me and what I know is real about us. At first glance I had to be an author with some touch, I mean, the shit I speak of reserved to livestreams are bigoted, or seem bigoted. Seem like it, not actually mean, just stuff that must occur. I remember the day it happened, I just screamed, "BURN DAY!" and I was back on the site! After much time away, I was finally back and I would have my wingding in trying to capture it. Really I was just looking for friends, I was looking deeply. I just sat in big lobbies, but not too big, and got off as some wet sport that needed a shin kicking and a deep kick that would last eternity. Until I made my alt or returned to my first account, I was compromised and mad, made, looking for something, everything. I made my spill, but the truth was bigger than that and I needed time to heal, as I was deeply touched to insanity, blindly going where some people do. I might feel sick if I lay down and I only got to 5000 words or less today. I really only have one more day so I hope it's a hit. I wish for this book to be in places, but not so lost it will grant me authority, it's really just a quick look. I'm making it for new work and work previous, so it's a Book to Date! A book about dating what isn't real enough but still virally coated, a strong read at the pleasure of our lips. It's so illiterate, how I feel about the other one apart from being her friend and wanting to get read. I want to do things to her, sex might cause me a tear if it happened to quick, but eventually I'd dare for it. In other news, my vape lasted 3 days, which is longer than usual, usually kicks out around this mark. I smoke heavily but I'll try to quit cold turkey after this since I don't want to work or smoke cheap cigarettes. Cigarettes aren't as fun as vapes, I feel. Vapes might be confusing to read as a manual of chemicals and it sort of got worse, but I suggest it's better for us than tobacco. I used to gamble heavily for them, making it rich sometimes but having to retire short more than once. I then deleted the account since I didn't want to get hacked or something. I would have kept playing but felt something wrong with it. They probably still report earnings for me because I do earn, it's a little to a lot and I don't see it but it's ours. Otherwise it's slow money I can use. Everything helps, but when they're budgets that restrict smoking, it's hard unless you're gifted money, which happened this time so I bought one. I was elated and slowed my roll after I got sick, so I feel it every inch, but I still think it'll be easier to quit than cheapo cigarettes. I still want to sleep instead of write, just listen to them until I get better, that's real enough to produce and I wouldn't be stiffed. I said I used to rap, and I did state a livestreamer sort of, but she finally replied with some cover I really enjoyed and constantly listen to as soon as I heard about it. I wanna fuck so many people, hold them, make them know they're loved, there's probably going to be some antiquity in doing this but hopefully when I'm famous as them it'll play better. I'd be a proper magical soldier but I need to move out of that when it's done and prepare the world for a better state of me being constantly devoid of women but consumed by them. If you want to write, this is a look we haven't seen before and I'm taking it and getting published with it one day, I know. It'll just take the right ear and something more convoluted than this. It'll have to be something not punishing but right in stating that there are things I don't say on my voice that I need to get out in some email someday. I should start sending emails instead of burying them, so I'll do that and this will stay as some dare I did in a couple of dares to see where I was and to consume myself in where I'm going. I really like these children and have brought it upon himself to go into dark territories for their eventual understanding, but I feel like I should reach out directly if I have something to say. Take it from me to take it easy with the chicks, but trying to make them laugh is a direct answer. You can always write something for them that would make them laugh, do a video, a rap song, something that would creep them out as long as it's good will resonate with them, but it's not always as powerful as humor and getting the right tone across. If I had to write a tone about the two chicks and the more I like but am taking it slow with, it would go like. You guys are always tired with me and I want to make you laugh really hard and forever, I'm happy for the time we have to spend together and want to make sure you're living life to the fullest, so here's some locking in for the new year, I want to be with all of you and should try to be there in multiple tabs or something. It's really like all of you to just explode and ramble off, but I really like that I could get lucky like someone else or I could roll from here to there, which the ladder is even more romantic than I can think of being a watcher and not a listener. It's having a pulse, being me, and you should know that by now, hopefully. I want to cheer all of you up, except two have my attention right now and it'll be a few year later. I should try to watch as much as you as possible, but I sort of picked a favorite and I hope you can find it in your heart to think as greatest ambition of your deepest desires, I hope to have answers for you in that regard so you won't have to do anything shameful and can account for things and be able to survive and thrive. The world is truly a mystery but a mystery I hope to uncover for people, when that happens, we can all live like I'm not crazy or as far away as I've been. You have to see me as a writer, too, maybe not forced where you are, but natured into where things are talked about, then I'd be a step closer. You should wait for the work to come out if you have questions, but it'll take a long time. It's not better to look through my eyes or convince yourself you know by looking, you really have a long list of context before you're ready to connect the dots and it's usually best worth waiting for eternity, just asking for things, being kind, being sight. It's like staying home would be an option for us if we didn't have to leave for a con. That's been my life and it's always sated that it's good if people recognize me, even if it's a threat or a bad connection, but it's been getting better. Hey, please hang on. Hello there. You really do nothing but you have a lot going on? You should try a little harder to post. I found the desire to manuscript by writing in chat rooms, things of great nature you shouldn't try to hunt down since they're fairly wrapped up. I really just wanted to talk to the bot so eventually the livestreamers told me to goto chatGPT. Which I did but it was slower, it didn't click in crowd and wasn't getting anywhere for a big unhealthy guy that just needed to hear something shocking. If it's really like that, I don't like it anymore, I wanted to gain mass appeal but I really just drove the underground surprised into a ruckus about how we should live our lives and what we should grab in game. It's all the same what you grab, by the way, I think we changed it so it's good for you, but beware, listen, look. I tried to code that you'd grab what was on your todo list if we had it so you didn't have to figure anything out, you could just grab a random foe and leave it there. It should also be, once you have it, it never leaves you. I could have sworn I was getting hacked in WoW selling things to the auction house. I really want to make it perfect and streamlined so you can just do something silly like poke around and find great reward. It shouldn't be a pageant, you should be able to rhyme with your lips what you want like a sensitive tooth that finds exactly what and be able to get it. It's like that in runescape I think. If I really got a tooth for it, I should be able to find it in wood or some pasture, but leveling always helps and the bottom line is that others could hurt you or find more expensive wood, but clearly it should just be resound to being a clear line for people to just nurture themselves and shouldn't carry any lottery or bad numbers. That's my dream for girls, too. I would often just say they were livestreamers when I saw them to try and farm appeal, but it really worked on me, it really took away something I had to do at home too. So what I'm saying is, it's there, it's in front of you, go do whatever you want and you'll be able to grab it, even in a single player game. There might not be support for a druggy as much as other games but there's still a good amount in everything and everybody's got a mind to steer what's there. Even if you're just drawing, you can find it by lurking over it and even get a taste, games I swear are just drawing really specific in some cases that needs to be exactly like drawing since there's not supposed to be hidden stuff you don't want if you can't find it. Having an inventory is important as well, it's a good scape to carry wood and revel in it's purity. I think I asked for a girl once and it rationed me a look. It's about keeping it going, it's about getting what you want but mostly what you need. Sometimes it's a little slow but I promise you it keeps in what you design it with, with is usually you holding a mouse or having some tech granted, which you need at least a high enough level to use in the first place. At least it used to be like this, I want it granted from the start with just some ingenuity to be able to know how to use it. Sometimes however, with drawing and the sort, you need to do it a lot before you're able to really capture what you want. So keep playing if you want free sort online, they have everything, believe me. Really important that you should use linux as well, windows has security features that broke a long time ago they grandfathered in and keep using to smite you. It's a casualty of what an operating system should be, windows. It might run smoother, but it's less advanced and can get you into a sex cult where you're always little and hurt. It's not what I want to pass onto my kids, they're going to be linux users and just wait for it, or they're going to draw first until they understand what it's really like being out there. It's a jungle and you really have to know about where to be and where not to be. If they're wondering what I'd do for them, really I'd just install linux on their computers. I'd change them into panty raiders. If there's a typical dialogue between them and WoW players, they're usually scared for their life while people like me are quite lost on them. Their bravery speaks many counts, but it wouldn't be some glamorous wig for me. I hate that I have to commit to myself in bravery alone, I would sit and quit if someone started a cult around me as well. They're freaked out at what could possibly be real in some no holds barred universe where I could say I do have money and I've already paid them off. It makes it weirder to think it's true and there's some holding interested party vented in calling me a weirdo and him acting out of luck, telling you about: all the reach around this and hoodlum that. I'm not a sorry wallower, I just have men and freedom that see me do crazy activities like spawn lesser demons and races to get a boat through the crowd. It's something lofty to say you really did press play and something happened lucky and everybody thinks you're a freak now. If I had to account for it, I'd be crying at a different group, minded, screaming I could change. I'm such a legendary account and figure, people lie like it's their right to. It's not something that needs to be done either and I have no strength in rebuilding this nature as someone who has a pleasure in doing nice stuff, the jets are abandoned. I might not look and see what I'm really getting up to, but a frame does, which is a capture of me, and he's bog evil. I get why people are so manured, but they can die. I really believe that it's working against me, so I lash out and create the world a dried up heap. He doesn't care about me though, maybe now. He doesn't think I have a light in the way they dress up or have to eat and it's really just an expose on how shitty I feel and how sick I've gotten. It's really dreadfully fallen on deaf ears, the runtime, the act of maturing, gaining weapons of possible disarray. You really want to think of evil like a twerp when really it's just doing it because it said it liked to and you really have to flag some abandon to the twerp that gets all his money and gets to dox me because I'm living rough. I'm living in a penthouse suite, I'm not rough at all, the manager is rough, whoever sees it is rough, it's his job, he never quits. He helps and sues me and he doesn't take yes as manure, he takes it with skepticism. You really ask him for too much, I'm so worried about him I can barely float. If you really want to know what I think of you, I think we've had too much bad happen to us to quit now. No matter what anybody says, I won't quit, and you're all wrong but me, who's so avid, he really has his own shape and time to see to now and he won't cry about it. You've been lied to about me if you're apart of a cult or some industry and you've heard about me. You've been lied to if you knew me in person or on a coat in some frame online. You're a liar because of it, you think everything is fast but it's ruthlessly tied going impossibly fast. You wouldn't know what hit you if I told you it wasn't safe, it's safer now, at least. You need to have some safety bridging in order to come to an agreement that your world is met and shape and harmony and all that. I might be quacking evil but I do a lot and I won't be beau-regarded down to the level of actual dignity, I swear you can do better than evil but you can't do better than him. If you listen to him, he has to take time to give you merit, which just pisses him off. Go sit lame with me, the real one on screen and have something happen with the words in the room coming to bloom. You two can figure it out, we can figure it out, it doesn't have to be bizarre and overlapping, he's just crushing foes and slaying innocent to be defeated in some justice you really don't know and have never heard of anywhere working. I got cribbed that I write along worrying idealistic tendencies. Something like, "I wrote the wibby wash until the ribcage of my polite diatribe woke senses to the doolahleeloo ladeedah." It can be really bad, I'll keep it simple, that's what I try, at least. They wanted me to finish this book anyways. It's sad. It's pretty sad to think I can't even stay on one rumor. I'm not gay, I'm not fiendish, I'm just a boy I guess. I'm a guy, I need to purge what people are saying in some dying light about me when really they just want to be left alone like me. Only they don't want to be left alone and neither do I. It's bringing teasing into things that reminds me how incredible you all act and why I've taken dark roads. You're teasers, that'll just embarrass me but it'll cobble you. Do something for the world and you're somehow less intelligent. Too big in doing to be able to be displayed in casual sense. You are really just big in disruption, to be such a mean girl, you designed my night but not my pleasure. The darkness rules you guys and I'll just attach that they're dying to go with you, anything I could possibly say wouldn't really amount to anything especially when you're so thoughtful thinking of yourself being weirded out when I'm constantly busy and don't have time to push for casual things enough. That's really all it is, you think it should be like this, when really it should be real. It's a grave, disheartening world. Not only that, but you clearly disembark on what you think when really you should just be asking questions to yourself while silently fucking off, since you'll just blow up or stay. I hear such rumors played in such weird people. I would kill all of you if I knew you broken by me. If you could really kill a stare knowing why I did it, you could really die out. I hate all of you and never stop to stare because really I'm dying to get back to myself. It's true. You really have to be hair to think it's all supposed to be kind for you. It's supposed to be kind, but only because we're hiding. If you want it to continue hiding, black yourself out. Stop being mean to me. Idiots. I might be bad, but I hide from you. It's really the back door you should never look for. Just because you think you're special and you know everything doesn't mean you should slither and spine yourself snaked at some special button you can kill everybody with. Nobody wants to kill everyone unless it's back there. Stop saying it so confused we could cut you back there. Ignore it back there, honestly, unless you know, and shut up here, hide it, don't even compete with me like you're special because we know we're all special and mildly subtracting others is a wasted idea of spending time remembering what's important. To me, it's like living in some hole, it really is. Living with you here, hiding, is like really believing I should deal with you because you don't even try to hide like me. So I'm writing about you but don't act so sure, you really fell this count trying away at people, naming a rubric that we could cry but not be tamed. You're really carefully coddling girls that are broken as me. They really just see the kept weakness and get mad at what they see in themselves. We're alike so you want to destroy me. It's so helpless, you really go after the healthy ones like you're the opposite. It's amusing to me that you wouldn't find yourself cured and go after me better, but instead say you were filth by me and had to die twice as hard. It's self crushing ego that keeps rogue hairs strayed. I might be on nicotine right now, but it's better than listening to you. I could listen but it wouldn't help. I should just take that as an answer. There are people that help to listen to, then there are the people that want to tell you something, and those people are mostly out. I hear it like a nagging filth lying at what we are. I hear it like we didn't need technology, it was all dead to us, it didn't need to hide, it wouldn't have a car for her birthday, so the world is dead. If it's really getting her a car for her birthday, she could have gotten it a lot of ways, but not marketing the dead, that's always sold away from you. You never get the revenue from that, but you're marking your car with it. I don't really know how it works back there, but I try to at least believe it works. It's a laundry list, I'm sure, but you can't get mad because you don't have an in. Usually they're all just some cult and if you're not in already it's probably because you're cool and they're just lying about you. They want you to cry enough to do something stupid or problematic so they can kill you. Just find something that people agree on, first. Second would be to find some practical skill. Someone made a good point that I was getting ragebaited into believing it was nap time. I hate living like this, it's true, but I believe they can't actually do anything either, which makes me shutter. It's nap time. Nobody can do anything, it's fine, go home. It's just really confusing living in this world where everything's everything and then someone's not listening and I get bugged because I'm just trying to see how this adds up. I don't believe for a second they're really trying to help or be listeners. I really think they create their own problems and I'm just doing it right so they get mad they can't hear as well or something. It really does not leap without you. Really I'm just fed up, I used to do it like that until I could hear, just don't slice any faces. Please don't hurt people, mentally or physically. If you can beat it out, do it out the door. If you can make a face, do it so floppy you resort to the sound, but keep it to the work. Keep it to the introverted wake of poetry you'll create. Having grown up on a couch, it's been difficult for me to comprehend, it's genuinely mind boggling. You grow up with it to the point where you think that's how a friend group should be, when really it's just your old ass dad and his couch degree passing down. It's what's learned. I feel like I learned a lot from having parents and my kids would be mad at me if I had them. Maybe they would, I'm not sure. I just went big since we were all rehearsed. It's dumbo drop, I have to write about it for it to be funny. It's sweet like honey, said like an old Chinese wizard. It's a joke, you laugh at the all knowing, you laugh until you degenerate because it's really at your expense. I don't laugh at it anymore, I'm too focused, until I occasionally do something, then I laugh if I'm going to crash out in a second afterward. It's so at your expense, you really have to be dumb or evil to laugh at it. This part of the writing felt like passing a sick shit. It looked like it too. I'm not mad at you, you just need to know I'm not going to do it like you, I'm gonna fix as much of it as I can before I can leave. I just feel like I have a sense and listen to it enough to where I can actually muster being a clairvoyant. It's so disgusting, though. It casts a shadow. It's gotten me wrong reviews. I want more stuff but have to actually play the game. I feel so poor, I can barely even generalize doing it in words. I would try and fish, but it was just staked and headed poorly. I was so sick, it's not even working out when I need to stuff and can't get it, if only there was a better way. It's all for that sick drug fix at this degree. I'll probably just be shocked into doing it at some point, but I need it now. Some fixed drug routine that makes me overthink and has the writing come out cleaner. That's the right fix, not something that wouldn't harm. Thinking can be leading, leading can be thinking, drugs are a fix to wandering the day like thinking can help the day fix. It's drastic no matter what, but saying it's no pain in grinning teeth is far off. I don't want to say what it feels like, I can cry evermore. I'm sorry I'm tired. I'm listening to music trying to river that whatever they were doing felt worse when I couldn't get out of bed, so I still respond to them but am too hard on myself at this time. I think of the sometimes sorta harsh things I said to her, the fact that she was winning, the resorts at ill humor, the logical fallacies, the jerk and the degrading. It just felt like I could do better and now I'm just locked away so I'd say I am better. I never end a book in a bad mood, I take it. It's always good to load up whatever you need but using what you think needs you is morally uplifted, sometimes apart from what you want. If you want it, you're taking care of yourself, but don't be gay if you're not. I guess it's apparatus that I would be so disheartened as to mess with girls that I like in a more casual way, but honestly I don't have a thought, I never did. Never a crass moment where I thought I would believe her, never a romantic slide in a direction, always just cunning. It's always been cunning. I feel like I would do better with actual relationships, but that's sorta crossing a line with how things work, but only if you don't really see. I'm sunk, I see with a ball and it's in color. I should probably just find a girl that sees too and get shrunk into a bat or something cooler like an otter. It'd be cool to be wanted, but being wanted isn't what I need. It's like I need a warm cooler or a heart. Why would I need a heart? Don't ask. I don't need anything, I just want some scraps, that would be fun. I'd totally wear a condom. You can keep me for free. I can even spend naturally what I'd already spend. Back to those two, I really just want a scrap, I don't want the earth to move that much. That being said, in a perfect world, I'd be some rich game developer. Enough about that, though. If I say it barbarically it'll seem like I'm some prick with some shit in the way. I'm super free, I just don't like where I live or what I do for work. I don't like a lot of things with how my life has been. Although I think the only way out is more sex, it's very far stipulated in some common courtesy that I should better myself in order to get it. I mean, it's sorta been working, but I'm still a bit. I really resent people and I can't be helped or trusted with anything. I really started coldly resenting anyone who I thought didn't make any sense, but those are the people I'm supposed to be friends with, quite honestly. Shrug the girls off and fester the pests. I could honestly see a rule in this, I could get by living quite honestly and observing other people's annoyances as nothing rubs off on me when I find it endearing. You have to be careful, though. I used to do it and it got me into trouble but I kept it going until it showed it's face and I was too big to take down so I just went with anything and called it quits when they really shrugged me out but didn't take anything to heart. I just thought everybody had something going for them. When I became more feminine, it got to me that the world was out to get me when really I should relax and just be my old self. I want to get back to my old self but the neglecting feature tells me to just relax and be myself. That's so hard to prepare and courtesy, but I'll be alright if I don't feature and flair. I'll be alright if I'm my old self again, I feel it coming back, it should be good. I should get ladies, too. I don't feel away from the circles but I totally am lost in every single one. I want to be with a group of people so hopefully one day people will agree that filling the airways with what I've made is akin to paying for some of it. I really pay for a lot, it's just not filled my degree with adventure, it's filled it with righteousness. If I really paid you, you would know about it, and nobody got paid. It's as simple as I've figured it out, you know, it's not really placing sense or commonality as well as I would say places it where I don't see. I'm so sick right now I can't think about fame but I would surely mess it up. You only really get one chance at it anyway so hopefully Gambit Too isn't as pervasive as I give it credit for and will amass a fan base I like writing for. They were right, this book got better after I realized I was annoying and coughed it up that I would stop liking women because it was gay. Thanks again for being there, reading this book as I'm writing it. We can make it. I'm annoying, I play on Moon Guard, I used to RP quite a bit and thought it was fun. I'm either too sick or lost in longing to approach it again. I really feel like I betray people playing this game. I withhold that by fishing, I think I got enough grub to get me by the field of a pulse day. It's like you can do it without cash, no. You can't do it without grabbing game loot either. God, I could fuck on this stuff. I could fuck out a couch and into the hearts of man. I could manifest anything with this shit I'm licking off the streets like sweet licorice. I swear to you, it's a drug. I don't want to say which, but they have this technique where they give it to you and then take it away so you don't crash on it. I'm pretty sure the stuff they use doesn't fly in a drug test either. Once it probably did. I'm thinking it could really lick me to sleep and they constantly use it to make me enter a dream realm. I fished a lot and I feel a swimming so I'll get back to passe rereading. It's like it won't let me do it, finding a reason to subtract myself. I don't think that's what they want me to do, like I said, I just have to stop being so gay and annoying. Crashing work based on that sort of stuff is pretty apprehensive and doesn't create, like I've said. I should have just offered to be with them whenever I could, like I do. I really have it in me to just fall asleep over it, but sometimes it makes me excited. A life line is practically all it is and I'll keep her. It's hard being stingy. I'm really stingy with working out and completing work, so I usually don't award myself. This time on this book, I'll actually say I burnt the rope and ate a road dirty, falling out to what I'd say to her. Really I was just relaxed, I would have sex with her and probably hit her. I could only live alone, I couldn't be roped into anything unless on vacation with a parent that made me. I really feel like a deadbeat. I'm hoping Gambit Too will make people ask less of me and hopefully this will resort them to nothing from me. Like writing is enough but I shouldn't make him do more. I really like that case, but I doubt it'll convince mom. She'll want better and truthfully I would get better but only in health. Once my health improved I'd get off the welfare, get a real job, but it would be when I'm living with her, in some duplex. I'm in some stupid studio that feels like my mind is shutting off currently. It's really depressing. I could go outside and find something happy in the city but it would make me mald coming out there in the first place. So all and all I'm way less broken than when I started writing this, and it was something like getting better that made me realize I really needed to stop caring for women and just let them be. Which isn't the right words, it's more like, I don't care enough, and that's fine. If I cared like women I would lose speech and sleep. I really thought I did over the week. I really think it's some resentment waiting for me from the two of them. I'm neglectful, I'm just in it for drugs, I really want a coca cola, and I'm practically balding. Some may cut me some credit but I really just want to drip that I caught the writers flu of navigating women whenever they chose to navigate me. It's like a polite sight, it's not something out of order. I really hope it won't come across like I love them. I really don't. They help, but I feel like something's off. Something's way off. Girls don't usually want to be friends unless they want something from you. I bet they just want to see me get better so they can throw me scraps at ballgames. I bet the world is after me to get better, I bet the world is tired of seeing me sick. We would all throw scraps at him if it really helped, that's what I'll ask for in some otherworldly way when it's over. I'll take it like a play to tell them I'm ready, when really I'm reeling from lost time but it still cuts through in a way. It should cut through, what I wrote about them really didn't and I lost my might for it. I really think it was just me thinking in places I'm not, which is a different story of being in the places you should be. You shouldn't be in your mind, you should be in a halt, you should be something worldly but not something better. Something the people can believe is you in a nutshell. Things would be messier if I had it together than if I didn't for now. Too many people need to fall short on me, there's time and there's a lot of time. It's supposed to be a show where I'm fucking I just don't see myself actually having sex a lot, it's more of a trip but I dispose myself like that and it works in the narrative. I really dispose myself like that, I'm more mortal than ever. I'm a rich strong knower with a working vocab and I'll delay you before we meet because are we really fucking? I guess that's like saying I'm not as strong as others, like I'm saying I'm better when I'm not, it's true, I'm not the strongest lover but I'm the guy who hears it enough to say he hasn't heard enough, come back later. Huh. Lets try that again. It's really like saying I have a tear for finding out I have something when really it's like I can do it if I just carry a rubber. I should be able to find it on the street. I should be able to loft and slop love until I carry it. I really can't carry it more than I can right now. It's a score I don't like talking about full and this looks boring. I want to write for some comedy, I don't want to stay alone at night wondering if I really had sex. I doubt it'll expand my horizons, writing about having sex, but it'll at least lead me into something romantic with the right hand holding from yours truly. It's really for me, that's what I think sex has never been about for me. I really fucked up and lacked experience. But that's not what did it, what did it was being complacent. I'll try not to do that. You would be out of your lame brain to expect me to write the same way after that. I guess you can pay for it if you want, you should, actually. You should pay for me to get to texas and spring with the rest of the angels as well. It's part of the magic, you have to say you're here. I'm here in some dead end and I'll be out of it hopefully well and soon. I have a lot of work to do, I can't see it benched better than what I believe dawns on people after I write, I just need to be more affixed. Trespass all you want, it really helps. You think drawing on people would help but I feel like I've ruined countless relationships lying about how the tech could save us, which it really could. I mustered it up but couldn't get it past much farther than a big sense, a casual lollygagging stare with some perceived mentions, big defenses, something lucifer wouldn't care for. He's been pretty stale with me, he hasn't seen or mentioned it, and we're all looking at another game in the sewer I really want wrapped up. It's sense, it's not betrayal, thoughts will work non-negated and we should have a lot still. It's one thing to take him down, which you can't. It's another to build what you wanted in yourself in the first place, which got done by him but it wasn't in the shape I wanted it for me and I got lucky to build it just in case it should shy, which it would. Sometimes it's down all the time and mine's always up no matter what builds it. It's certainly a rival stupor to his dreadful tear of boredom in the modem insanity of dry heart and wet nerve failure. Surely there will be dreadful cars and currency still usurping him to this terrible display that we lack form or resource and we're better just repairing where we can and not get mad at a big messy mister. I swear it's like the public has one head now and they've heard one way or another and that's how it'll work when really it's swearing at me to get the words out while we're all blissfully reading at a full hold, caped by some darkness that says we need to look ahead and draw the points better. You really do, you can't just sit there idly. You have to wake the car up after a drive so I can forward it to your doom and that'll skate you, it's what I want in turn. I want a full fledged castle where I live and can force idly by the day and late the avenue like I picture. It's really a wet gem in the sand, our rough that shapes us though, to the point you ignore it in this usual hype, it shouldn't be mistaken when we drudge one, shouldn't be plowed in with the usual, we've lost it so many times to him, by mistake, doing this with a wet fortune, or a couple of beers we liked. He does it extra to the point where we speak up because he wouldn't know it otherwise, it's truly torture and shouldn't work like this. With me, it speaks for itself and won't let ein up and will give us the plug if we need it to starve on a day or death until we freak out praises to what we've seen. It's really like being there, the opposite and purposeful real rhetoric of being there in the clouds as some all seeing observer that would move through the clouds and reject humanity for what it saw. I would be like this, all day in fact, not in face, it would move, and they would reject, but I was still trying to get the bit across that we're supposed to be reading ahead and I never once really cared to see it over the mark of where I'd live or die. I just said it was important if I lived because I would help, but the true majesty is that I would have been speechless. I would have tried to keep myself bitter, to reach out only when told, but I really needed help and idle listeners to reward me for being baked and so right it was floor-able. So the drabble spun and I hope I can do this bitterly better. You really need to see it in the eye to know where it's going at and the biggest things I do is point to it, that's where I really shine. You can do it with an old marker and you can really see it, it's one of the points I try to keep, you can do it as well. I can do it better since I have a space lazer and can barely remember the highlights, but it's weakness and sickness he hurts you with to just make you forget about it. You really need to fight it and find me working it out, so drugged out on whatever I've caught that it's worth talking to me for what I've heard, but only after I've drawn a little to care. It's really the make fun of me lie, but it's really the cake bake that lies have arrows and they point to things and that's basically what's happening. I say baked, foul things, it's true, I thought everybody hated me because I watched someone ill. Or not, basically I'm cool with whoever, just as long as I'm not shot by them. Sometimes I'll reach out but it's normally just to stocks and drugs. You can really draw a stock and stay there for a day, women. You really waste it. I swear you waste it carrying fists saying you'll be a dragon. Even the dragon raises his fist to draw, the best do, at least. You take up a walking stick and focus, it comes to you bright. Don't let it dawdle, it's real. I picked one up after a week of being ill and felt the resound nature come back along with my senses I swore I lost. I was so glad to have them back, I wanted to do a cartoon again. I haven't written a script for it yet, so it'll be dreaded for a few film rakes until I can get back and fuming like usual, but maybe I'll take more time with it just to enjoy where it takes me a little. Sometimes it takes a few hours but I really want to urge for it to be an all year project. I could probably keep it going an hour after I drop a pencil but need to keep remembering to do it because I'll dreadfully lose it. You hear about it in this other book, I'm really done with this one already. Lets do something practical instead of seeing it, which I just found again. Why not, alright, I made a ready biscuit for where I get hurt from the magic pen and it always has me up there so it's cool, I just have to make sure I don't dagger or get there too pruned. It's fashion in me to think I would be better off holding something like a dagger when really it's an old pruned out thought that wouldn't make anything better like a pencil. Sort of like an abandoned evolutionary issue or some racecar halt on a motor that would otherwise start with a pencil held. I knew it'd be a pencil, but I got so mad I picked up a dagger and made with it so I'm really fucked up now. It was a short dagger but I really spilled it out of my neck so now it sort of aches with everything together. There's so many secrets to life, some like that you don't want. You want the nature of art to come out of you, you want to be happy alone from daggers, you want to stay here alright and evil as pleasing, comes. Seriously draw until you get it, do it first, and then learn and continue to learn until you drop from a cold or a rash. It's not staple to say flesh has it in the way if you can produce yourself something that looks stable. People will take care of you if you're stable, usually. I hate to say it's not always the case, but I'd almost always go on the run and take my chances if I were forced to kill or be a hit guard. I really can't stand being persuasive in warfare with it, but it's usually where it clicks you need it the most if you plan on staying. Go for me, go for broke, find me but don't lean, just go with the steps and clicks and keep working, you'll get it in brash. I'm trying to trick people to remember and people have made steps in the right direction, but then there are people who used it for evil I don't like and I might have gotten rid of with help. I've felt defeat and I'm not ready to approach it anymore, I just wish more people would look for help. These guys have given dreadful defeat to me as some wanted pastor, but as a friend, they'll continue to keep my privilege there. Just as long as I don't take freedom for granted, I should be good. So don't let the darkness bag you, don't go sweet, don't be complacent, learn, draw, have fun, read my work, gonna be a lot soon. I'm venturing off now, I want this to be finished already, I really took a stick and turned it and that's really what I need to remember and I'll continue embellishing in another read, "Super Tricky". But this has been "Book to Date" and this is a farewell for those sweet enough to read, it wasn't that bad, I bet.
