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I had so many ideas: silence of the cemeteries, echo of mummies, purgatory and your fond memories. Now: where have they gone? I will tell you this: I might not be the miraculous healing Messiah you hoped me to be. I am sure: my resilience is astounding. I feel at peace. Despite everything. I never believe my resilience but it’s way too powerful : acceptance of what is. I let me do the work but the full acceptance of what is never leaves me even when I believe otherwise. Run on… sentences… prisoners… pensions onion regulatory rye… lyrical calculus lustrate irate pirate by rate for this game. I am not going to argue with you or anything but I want you to know this: despite everything that has happened I am not in despair. Air might be heavily conditioned but I have enjoyed playing. I have been successful in my endeavours. We will build a bridge of love and live a life of peace. A men two thousand felt hat at the moment peppermint oil lamp. The one I love is now in the next room with her family. An ample pleonasm neoplasm metastasis sisal salubrious salut les docum modicum cummerbund underdog dingdong singsongs Singapore claptrap humdrum humbug gummy bears will be there. There is nothing I would not give for their happiness. I keep telling you: they keep projecting their ideas in vain: Raju guide for example. Someone really asked me to work as one . If only they knew that they were limited by their imagination which was shaped by the Narayana. I will tell you that: I am not a plaything. Nor a thing binds me to a place. And how strange forsooth forthwith withal thalium umlaut autarkic quark core. Your middles are not mine Minecraft caramel melee tradecraft aft bulkheads meads meadows. One person’s idea is another’s myth.

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