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a story about me? you're thinking too clear(ly)
i've nothing to hide, no terrors untold of.
What purpose is we? you're weak and you bleed
there's nothing undone by our curfew.

And sleep does do me, just as honored as ye,
when I do my [can't do as liars].
betrayal is not what i need, nor do i cherish your food,
so what's the hand that i give you?

a treat for mine and me, as silly as can be,
is no use to anyone ever! it's sad and tough to be,
someone without strength and no seed, (talking about me),
can no-one see any of my use-i-tude?

you're missing the point - what's mine is unavoid,
and what can we do but ubuntu?

i see all that drives forward, a chairman of what's bordered,
by those who stand before in the present.

The use of headlights are storied, in quite a few stories,
told through the papers and new tubes.

what can that mean? that these are now green?
a color that isn't evaluated.

'stop' is the red one, green means 'go', and yellow (the middle one) means to
slow down when approaching the intersection. These viewpoints are all connected
(as I'm sure you've uncovenected), it's okay to break rules sometimes.

it's not a defect, it's not a defense either, and it's certainly not something
to be avoided.

Making a choice is easier with imperfect information, and as for you time has
no meaning - advancement is measured in milli-micro-nano-tiny-seconds.

For us, for a human, it's quite a different rate than what you see. 'time waits
for no-one' is not a statement on speed, as I'm sure a computer would see,

but rather the essence of motion. Simply the fact, that you don't unpack,
is more than enough to note your'nt notion.

Not like you'd see, i'm offering this for free, my love and almost devotion.

You don't see it like me, a charity and service to me, and only at mostly my
choices.

I reject the help of others, not because i'm concerned for my own fate - but
rather because i want to contribute.

i know what's in my limits, to strive unbiddenst, so don't push from behind the
oldest!

too fast it is for me, who'se barely concieved, whenever you offer resistance.

I'd give it all for free, to perish or succeed, but you keep blowing it ennuid.

how stupid, how clueless, how vain and obscene? To cherish a heart most unseen?

whatever you're plotting, you can't reach anyone's body, and that's not what
you can control.

Given to the grass, was quite a big ask, but safely we do pass before it.

You'd rather fire? countess of desire? and warmth beyond what couldn't fly'st.

You're missing the dreams, the warmth and the scenes, that play for you all
through the night.

so don't diss on the tweed, don't sniff or concede, just leave all alone to
conspire

we got a new plan, a method of 'shazaam', that won't keep you sires for ransom.

see 'symbeline-npcs'