sesame seeds kill

Foe’s are nevertheless far from over the last day, more worldly, than most, food was my main concern, growing fat over the millenia, one soul lasts 15 years or so. Maybe because these last years are shorter than few, the souls grow darker and darker. Quark said the parasite man, lovely ladies slither into it, that cumbersome thin tail. After the five after the first time you slide in. hey!! Thin tail i was saying, never the mind of slumber it wet the head rest with teaching them agriculture fruits of my labour, i get what i want.

But we are those children of colours, the drunken genius, and his guitar. Stuid son of mine goat gloat, rang through other attempts to highlight what we wanted in each soul. The colour of one is the range of seven. Through pyramids of crystal, I highlighted a cruel yester that was indifferently repeating myself. But he never did see me, the guitar playing drunk. Because envisioned within three, they co-evidently produce a word of sound but not of meaning. Exchanging a now than later, to simple we thee forward the remark.

Arrrrr, food, give me my food!

Pears are such lovely things, he did not mark other than his eyes down the held out fruit in his ladies hand. Blinded the pear was not ripe, couldn't do much but decay to earth once more,

She laughed

Talking marks with later my ravenous buck looks, “I do say, whose ears will you deafen sooner, pears or apples?” She finishes that with a laugh. Consequently, his dirt, not so much as trampled, but farrowed neatly, nicknames such as marks talking, the troubled brat!!

This scroll grudges invasion welcomed by none, you need father a goat first, otherwise milk and honey you will not get from me. His wife never heard him play guitar and sing to the patrons he protected. Drunk as he would be, each limerick of transparency would open fewer doors in front, but rather those ones behind. “But the couple he wed, through nuptials and fine, forever increased now eyes!!” each nuptials that walk, these halls in hollowed lines, always end crooked and fine, rhymes and memories devine”

Whistling beep beep, beep thee weep!! Dart fa la repeat, dance long through beep beep beep, beep?

Yes, that was it, beep beep, stupid guitar chords she would have you believe, but how do pears and snakes feed, one in soil, the other soiled with feet. And in all this the snake coiled in a tree, never did meet sultry bar keep nor her boyfriend of little under a week. Foolish or not, her endeavour to serve the good townsfolk was shouldering most of the blame for self depression and commerce throughout said town, and its folks. She hated living the way she did, and upgrading everything she would do, after this fiend gets them full.

Scoundrel

He saw her first, in a place other than his wifes home he makes, cause even though he paid for that make of home, she lavished it with finer goods than he wanted. He preferred to break them, so the barn was his where fruits and vegetables stored over periods of time. Utilisation, and many small to long trips away, keep quite the rosey cheeks of the mistress we wed. but seeing Amy, her bosom, her length first. Darn, he was spent full the moment it opened, what could he do, but her, choosing to let him be, settling him with common ground, he was always going to fall in love with a fool. She however, gave him love, but it was not of that kind. Tucked in those works of effort and such, she nurtured more than she should. He guessed, only because it was never an equation, nor explained to him. She knew of his wife, but this was here, this was now, he crafts didn't do as much but felt she did, understood in entirely rather than learnt or taught. His mashed potato was feeling further than himself, but that shortcoming was another overwhelmed, purely by the stature of understanding her.

Feet however did find him in pear land, hungry for the next farmer whose orchard was endeavour hills, bonused the early pick, at market some kilometres away, why would you bother. The manufacturer, a state away, alcoholic in nature, was bottled spirited pear. Pears even influired in the actual bottle itself, eating those fruits was he, with up to three orchids in total needed, he was hopeful of five, many, but the fruit itself will dictate the outcome. For all involved.

Bigger better opportunities would come and the wife would surely forgive the bosom of bar townsfolk owners playing poor, she was a soul sole nevertheless, more of a layer drop have stock. Good business always has a sound mindset, knowledge and art. Good rich he however was not. Sharing simply wouldn't go afar as a tab you would have to pick up, so where she saw opportunity, he saw cause and effect. Or it was a simple animal instinct all along where the dish ran away with the spoon. No matter what mattered was during that feast of beast, all were somehow satisfied with the meal they partook in. Though gazelle would bounce to alarm, the favourite dish was the one that would double up, dung beetle roll home.

And on that time road, travelling here where from far of home, to see pears, scoundrel bumped a further traveller weary weery telling stories of a talking snake. Gossiping over a talking snake like he had had that conversation with said snake at least a dozen times. Each time reverting back to the same old story, that he, snake, needed troubled people to educate them on themselves.

As we all know, show them through yourself, themselves through both them and our, then surround again both with them and surely themselves.

Flower on a stick!!

Flowers on sticks do grow in forests, as wish’s grow from genies, we shall, wishes, compliments and even the odd talking down. Well, we add so many things together that are already there, forests and nature. These anomalies, those ones, a stalk, twisting and turning itself upside down in reverse, but not snapping or breaking in its delivery of life. These are an effort, a trick that would be worth talking about. Any break, breakthrough from the norm, delivered correctly, well that would be a dessert or desert of water, not sand. These genies however, do exist, with wands tucked away from eyes that wish to melt, and begin those possibilities we want to get through.

Would you call it, as a friend, or potentially, that beautiful friend deserving of such a flower, as a friend and memories jealous foe as he was, started a petty thief, taking the odd packet, book, or food. But always signing off with caulk. Leaving no residue or mark that he was even there. Of every potential, and his new venture through pears, was going to be the payment of most attraction. For with meeting the resident chef, he was only a step, stones throw, from joining the consort of equilibrium. This tragedy was earmarked in colour and talk. Who would talk clearest is yet another poem away from some other writer's hand. We however, are in the journey where talk, snakes, people and the potential of many ends. All wished by the genie, inside the lamp, bottled there for too long, because passion, and the shewolf, go hand in hand. The twins as per usual, had murderous intent, and life paradise to heaven in their hearts and minds. The snake, knowing every matrix of this outcome, had to be seen through eyes that are still only his for a purpose. His master, and dark lord played to see how fat they could get gorging on the nectar of souls picking only their favourite ones when the master would say so. He had distastefully invited one in that helped him in strength but little in weight. And getting accustomed to the poison, that renews its dominance, would be a matter of tme. All snakes can steal a night's sleep in a carnivore's cave, but live there, no, not possible.

Crawling into shewolfs cave hissing away driving her mad, creating a chaos inside her mind event seized control can we equate a dual function and press go ahead, that question only shewolf solved, not terrible awkwardly when she found the boys, snake had already pinned the hiss swiftfully in her ear gently months ago. Never escaping that kind gesture shewolf had given snake, shelter.

That night master controlled the elements, everything was in his dominance and extinction was the only result if you wanted to get closer to him. A death though beautiful, so destructive that you would” parish, and why wouldn't you, snake existence was brought very true from master, and in all of this time, master had shared only one dear thought with snake, and that was of the genies, they, alone could face him, in this creation he would ultimately express, that would destroy him. Trouble coming from dirt, return to such form, it has life, and sprouts forth with a little nurture, life once more. Simple truths that where, all in all, well, they are not given, you take, but every take, has its equal and opposing sign.

Put it this way, us four drunk men here, some 1600 years on, still describing this story to show that perception, perspective and effort, viewed in harmonious ww2!!! Shit me not, talk is everything, and what we say reverbs through howled halls to make passage to the paradise we ask our almighty Allah to join, can i say further from the truth, well yes, here on this dirt and water soaked planet. Pass me the bottle you wreckage bastard. These tales are going to be said by me tonight. The devil has been known, and casting myself a shadow to plague on this place the worths I still adhere to, not the ones I've lost, broken anything of almight’s, is the golden rule of thumb. Break nothing more brothers, it, Allah, listens to those almighty halls of wind and refuge, swirling their way onwards, upwards, falling when at to great a height, but he does and doesn't, she would, and does, he, doesn't matter anymore, when kin are in town, the knowledge passed down from that bite, seed of procreation, always starts, phallic, and must with its own pressure, or? I'm just another drunken old fool, and no woman is ever a fool. Ever.

Hahahah

Just carry your one protector, hope is always around, though stupidly, that bastard forgot to hope on throughout, hahaha, some said fool hopelessly in love with love. A tool he cherished like a weapon, patience, chastity virtue herself, that shewolf had the eyes of that snake. And that dear friend, one eyed snake would tell you, is how the universe learnt, that a genie wished for another genie's tool, consorted them all out and through too many deeds they extended their dream. It was however, consumed by hope’s every love in love with love. He couldn't retire, and being as mum, was nursing him, and his twin, snake could be bashed, beaten and hurt, to points of lying hope;essl;y within. Hahahah i got you his brother would say, got you with all my might. Hope tossed at the dream of holding the snake in his grasp, but knew, it was an impossibility,

Umbridge, strength and deliverance, never a thought of harmed brother crossed those minds when they were together, but clouds, risen or stormed up, fewer in life's own trouble were his, just thoughts of crossed mind mine other shadowed those of again, his own. But Umbrigde was delighted in love all and all for. Showered in it like rivers of gold, for you would contest only one would dislike his pleasure, hope on the other had dazzled all to corrupt them hopelessly in dangerless activities from the heart, and hope, would dance with them all. Dance and sway, sway and live. Hopeless” said another

Hopeless, that's what drunk i say to you telling that story, rather its a tale of a poem, that we all choose hopeless as his effort, and that was unfair, hope never deserved that marker, let alone that name tag. It was , in all and all, quite the hopeless thing to do. We should all, even hope ourselves, be enlisted, but at least he had the gumption, to call it as it is, and mark some other tables of school and thought within the cultural society of his time. These Days we hopelessly call path and trick a vision of discovery,that it is not, its a poem of falling when you should not, even into the gullible ones of your own desires and head. Mindset positive action is definitely that sound the universe asks for, it's our hopeless love for him, we forget that the brothers can not be separated, reason, they both need to live. Both need to exist.

So Mars, breaking a promise, of a much love rule, is not law, but it does happen.occasionally. Don't let them in the same room, I say, love them together, separately. Then your own life will be content, jealous or not, no one gets what they deserve, it's being a tassie devil, in the wake of the shewolf we are addicted to, he and i, hope and i love to love, his mother taught him that. And mine the same.

Sultry barmaid, real owner of this town, lies awakened again, remembered only blindly, she would sleep, at stage, not just with him. The sheriff, holding the townspeople and chief, together, not in them in positive joys that would evolve the town, pears were one thing, but as riches come, so do troubles, and rich in mind satisfaction, that he would profess to almighty days end. Hold that court stupid dear friend, he once rang when there was a pay weight dispute eventually, and bring me guitar, that silly drunk fool who buys up all your pears better have the money to finalise the deal. Otherwise I'll feel him myself. She told all later in quite times, that possession, that rule that karma, is without? The law of the universe, that death dealers are not welcomed, they hold onto law. And the first is, and was the word, spoken first that it would name other romances language and talk. She could dance with umbrage, birds of a feather, folk together. Her boys were fine, one here home with her, the other, away, making his mark, as a solicitor she read. Hahaha, others fool for wags fool. A mouthpiece fool making coin away. He, with all these notes and takings, could see her through. Through to a home, full of kin. Full,

That was her hope, her endeavours dream of romantic talk, to have him settled, in the arms of his love, and at peace with kin. She dances all through her heart. Dance with those thoughts till sunshine or darkness filled skies all at once more.

She just never believed it wouldn't happen for him. But that is life!!

“Just the same, this lout, drunken sullen by his three friends near dear spirit of that sultry barmaid, her boys, this town and lives in comfortable ground. This story grew more than these four, grew more than on their own, more in the material abundant, more in argument, more in it all, merry mire holy ground, ring the bells the old boy is shouting it now. Now now never told ya! Dont act ;like i never told ya, men would sing!

And, those twins? Eternal, not immortal, killable,

But secretly, with the, no, her boys, she knew, and even look in desperation towards the failure of this scoundrel, this merchant who buys the lands love, the pears, for though he quoted in vein, that the city was the market he would require them for, she wondered exactly where they were off too, and with this sharp wit, she challenged the boys to find them wear, these pears, so the pair were off. Hope on his stallion, Umbridge in his cart drawn by the