Crushed, As It Sounds

The devious nature of an artist is that he should be somewhat blamed for the fact that what has been created makes less sense than the expense of the bane of being eluded. The message is unclear, obviously, what on earth would be the point if it was clear? It would again, more likely, get complained about for being too simple or not having enough character in the style of what has been written. Smitten, not really, you’ve become a buoyant annoyance and to assume that you wouldn’t command any sort of defined understanding for what has been presented. Listen when someone tells you inaccuracies are just a social construction, its not wrong, its just considered wrong.

The undoing of themselves lies manifested in the judgment and scrutinizing others around them, by them. Watchful eyes, in a surprising manner, able to dampen the coruscation of a man who’d happily craft a benchmark for what no to do, but at least let him do it. The tasteless and dry trying to pry on those who shine the light of a scurrilousness that pierced his inner speaker, to a bleaker and more evil name. The game has changed and in it has a strange and loving flame that has been made. Simply, eyeing the timing for an other sort of discrimination, you’ll have to be blessed to be different, but don’t let it get you down. Fear is often considered the causation of indifference.

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