Weary of the dreary dimension, acting to those of power and lesser to the abundance without. Shouting silence deafening the reckoning revolution, hiding the damned and highlighting the fabricated conclusion that either the first, second or third attempt was not enough of an alibi to be received indignantly. Spiteful to shine delightfully there is malachite hanging suspended upon the framing shoulders of his body, for a moments best, he may have felt slightly more then horrifically less compassionate. Eager, as the believer would be, lasting the coming carnage. The superlatives only elongating the predicament, derived from diligent or perceptually belligerent the message is one and the same. The week flew by, but don’t they always, trust you to announce disagreement with the sincerely severe revelation that its not quite butter. If you were to accumulate the entire time spent in each others company, it could be argued that they’re still strangers, the danger being that when it comes to commitment there is always a phobe affixing it. Praying that one day you might wake up not disjointed from the decision that feels like it might have already been made, there could be one day where it exposes reality. Suppose you’ll have to endure the cynicism of an ex addict whom still finds the world sober utterly dull and uninteresting. Though in all deliberation, after one and two it is all just words and perspective.