And so, shetoo, became just a series of coincidences.
That sounds lamentful.
There is a little art up there, back a line or so.
If Leo, Gabriel, Rache....and Mary Anne
Got together and had Afeni....
ohh how to have discovered herrr.....
pleasure wrapped up in a sheaf of that barrister's papers who uses a bard line in his rejoinders, on behalf of his
so called
clients.
The Boss.
Afeni that is not the confection.
But to keep it to a simpler version, Leo's Resurrection
At last sat by the river a year ago finding that passage;
mixed with with Gabriel's Hooker one and his best.
Because I have lived it to its best.
Because I know how he did it.
Because i do.
Florry, loses her address.
Leo's chap got a very nasty clap.
And Rache's lost lass is let off by the chopper to go on her merry camping holiday, way...
Mix them all, and forget today's anniversary - the statue fell.
And my 'crime' paid.
For a bit.
And then for a lot.
Mix every most poignant passage in lit
Or quantum notjobbiness dessed up as professor Caroll smiling as if he knows what the fuck's in his next pod'
And scientific maretialism duelling with the so called dodgy God hypotheis
all day every day from dawn.
And you would still drop your jaws
At the poignancy in that little emboldened-too
How the most healthily happy and beloved
And educated.
The propper way.
They had to.
Have their way.
But i know why.
Anyway that sounds maudlin and (what's one out of about 66.5 million expressed as a percentage? ...you do the math I have better things to do anyway the year when they admitted math, or to be unamerican...mafs.... really is a bit of a dream.... )
I like the Donald version - Hof that is.
Anyway the worst thing to write is 'anyway' when you have a magnificent and impossible story
To share.
Anyway as i really do know that I am that extremely small statistically irrelevant fraction of a percent
I had better keep it low key.
As the statistically lost and nuts all the rest of the percents
Will either get so jealous they will tell someone.
More likely not know they are jealous and tell no one.
But will she....as we speak you and I
And even if i forgot to turn off comments I shall never read your words.
Because i know no one else has lived my words....
For the one most impossibly glorious year of....
Ever almost but don't tell her....
But I suppose on June the 23rd...
(i have him on now)
Oh we will come to that later.
But I think it was my 'sister'.
In a Byronic way.
Her little chirp last night at middle of it.
It was impossible.
What is even more final than the word 'impossible'?
A hard one in intellectual truth to answer being the whole of fizzics fucked! Oh Glory!
Lee i want my money back.
Roger you too.
(hey i thought singing was banned how come the toffs always find a way to be above the folk lore... I mean you get a brace more than you deserve even if you were normal and then get legal exemptions bet no one'll be dobbin them in....)
Hahhh hahhh yes let's start with her.
(i never stop to think, i don't need to, or too)
wzniosły...no don't be English.
Impossible times infinity.
That a woman like her. And now my test is complete.
The writing test.
I know impossible and infinity are silly words.
Just words,
Because action - her and I....
Acted.
And no masks.
And her lass smiled.
