i still believe in anarchy)-well . . and there is a question as to where we stand , and so then , how does one find themselves trading in the actions in a roulette to make a quick buck , it seriously feels like a job and so the song goes , my mother knows why im still caving in after the ballot turns to a landslide , perhaps i dont like pretending but i never give a way for action , especially when confronted with a question that would slump those with the capacity to capture it , henceforth the back and forth , and without distractions . . so then the momentary caper and notice , perhaps it is dmso snd those jacked up sailors want that agony to subsist of marlboro malice that parts away with the religious aspects of the wild west and cartoon-like gangsters parish with the sex and the violence on set and on the silverscreen , all to watch the confusimg moment they all rob the cargo and kidnap the wives . .
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In this fortress of solitude, with no place to call home, the only person to talk to has set the stage for. in the hope that. is this the idea of a place beyond the grit and grime of modern failures. "at large". would that suffice. i wouldn't call this a truce. i can almost hear them argue about it now. but to live in dispossessed agony with that relentlessly blind faith there of. breathing in that despair and struggling to grasp the spoken works of a hungry ghost. confused. broken with gross incentives. and still foreign to.
