W H O L L Y T E X T S

 

OVER THE PHONE-LOOPS CLASHING

Whitefish papers skirt the edge, dolphin aggression silent in the echo.
Birds bounce. I always take the Trip, with myself in Mind. It smells funny. Melt your hair. It's still a penny, nothing changes! 
THE OBJECTIVE-SELF PERCEPTUAL-OBVIATION rules instantly, absolute negation an impossible Nothingness. Creates an IN-FACT!
A condition favoring a white/cartoon NOTHING! Components of
area-spaces in suspended animation, the dark matters fingered all
worry-strings of gestating Horta, urk. They group in fears/melt your hairs.
GIVE ME YOUR GRASS OR GIVE ME YOUR URANUS! Seal the deal!

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