Mag: Predicting

UnbornBuddha · 11-27-2015, 12:58 AM

Get your bio-chemical weapon loaded or else be a defense rogue, who'll certainly be captured and get his senses probed. Cretin take a mental note, while I brand your soul. Salvation wise, I'm the man to know so expand your code before your preprogrammed and sold. I see that you think we American are foes, you silly anti-capitalist propaganda clone, globalism made the internet possible; the cybernetic light that trumps death's obstacles. The best logical conclusion to our differences, is to produce a solution to the sicknesses that makes you and I believe the illusion of significance. Simply put, human empiricism is not validated by choosing our egotism over the future of our organism. Knowing nothing at all is the Buddha mind's origin, the infinite gyroscope. The view of life is to desire a role, but I've forsaken it that's why I smile so cold. Vile in tone because I see my child defile his form. My style supports gigabytes of wisdom; I will live to die religious, no one can take my beliefs from me. If they do, that's like allowing them to re-numb me into an asleep zombie. I'm a viral proxy, that contaminates the inanimate via copies. My entire hobby is cultivating the eye of Ghandi, so I'll be kind and gauntly looking. But, I'm far from it, so instead I make ghastly music, described by do-gooders as the rap of mutants. That's because I'm trapped in ruin and all I know is how to do bad by looting, developing a cash empire through a gambling hubris, a habit that wounds me. Being little and materially lacking consumed me, so I became obsessed with the prospects of how to possess like a sorcerous. But, the prerequisite to manage the stress of success was popping percocets, until my adrenals burned to death. And my will became extinct like the tyrannosaurus rex. Now, I'm in bed, wondering where my life went. I then, think to myself how to be psychic and con others with the mind's depth. I walk and leave unseeable divine steps, revive the lives of those you thought you loss, then once again immortalize their flaws by a sacrifice to Gods, the higher awe. It's fly or fall when your in the sky with God, don't make me define your flaws by resorting to my science course. Apoptosis of the cancerous cause, don't mind me. answer your thoughts, dismantle your blocks by thinking out of the box. My similes are a plot that will have your battle strategy seemingly out of luck.

11-27-2015, 12:58 AM	#6
UnbornBuddha Senior Member Join Date: Jul 2014 Posts: 1,008 Battle Record: 23-10 Champed - Art of Writing League - AOWL Season 5 Rep Power: 23856379	Get your bio-chemical weapon loaded or else be a defense rogue, who'll certainly be captured and get his senses probed. Cretin take a mental note, while I brand your soul. Salvation wise, I'm the man to know so expand your code before your preprogrammed and sold. I see that you think we American are foes, you silly anti-capitalist propaganda clone, globalism made the internet possible; the cybernetic light that trumps death's obstacles. The best logical conclusion to our differences, is to produce a solution to the sicknesses that makes you and I believe the illusion of significance. Simply put, human empiricism is not validated by choosing our egotism over the future of our organism. Knowing nothing at all is the Buddha mind's origin, the infinite gyroscope. The view of life is to desire a role, but I've forsaken it that's why I smile so cold. Vile in tone because I see my child defile his form. My style supports gigabytes of wisdom; I will live to die religious, no one can take my beliefs from me. If they do, that's like allowing them to re-numb me into an asleep zombie. I'm a viral proxy, that contaminates the inanimate via copies. My entire hobby is cultivating the eye of Ghandi, so I'll be kind and gauntly looking. But, I'm far from it, so instead I make ghastly music, described by do-gooders as the rap of mutants. That's because I'm trapped in ruin and all I know is how to do bad by looting, developing a cash empire through a gambling hubris, a habit that wounds me. Being little and materially lacking consumed me, so I became obsessed with the prospects of how to possess like a sorcerous. But, the prerequisite to manage the stress of success was popping percocets, until my adrenals burned to death. And my will became extinct like the tyrannosaurus rex. Now, I'm in bed, wondering where my life went. I then, think to myself how to be psychic and con others with the mind's depth. I walk and leave unseeable divine steps, revive the lives of those you thought you loss, then once again immortalize their flaws by a sacrifice to Gods, the higher awe. It's fly or fall when your in the sky with God, don't make me define your flaws by resorting to my science course. Apoptosis of the cancerous cause, don't mind me. answer your thoughts, dismantle your blocks by thinking out of the box. My similes are a plot that will have your battle strategy seemingly out of luck.