It's a funny notion, enslavement, to notifications upon this ocean of pavement. Some don't even notice the fakeness. The potion is great. Sip every motorist, racing to social engagements. Coma detainments. Everyone full of the tamed bliss. Corporations cornering behavior into potent displacement. I'm kind of bored of the chains. Sworn to containment. Continuous longing. Forced to attain it. It's all more of the same. I want cordial strangeness instead my mornings are aimless. Who portioned the greatness? Such a chore to be grateful in this corpse of a haven. I wonder what was important to cave men? I've seen Atlantis morph into rain drips & the garden of Eden in floral arrangements but it isn't enough from this Oregon plaintiff
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"black as midnight..black as pitch
blacker than the soul of the foulest witch"
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