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You can sharpen a knife with a banana leaf.
† Roshan Gurmeet Singh
You can sharpen a knife with a banana leaf.
Albino eyes glinting with red hues, Laniakeally, Her eyelashes, surreptitiously scholarly and springed with vermillion shadows, Whyelffloresconaissence effloretinascent tears, ears, spears, alibis and espies.
Sundance, suede auburn gist of zest, caramelising upon the verterbraillifeic of the emptiness and its ubiquitiousness.
Forbidden archeological, vrilledical, astronomical biology.
They cannot create like me, therefore they are trying their best to corporatize via religicrime.
Instead of bibles and gitas, perhaps they should keep lexicons and thesauri in lodgestonia.
Fucking impotent bastards.
When I was younger, something tied my shoelaces in a strange manner, while I was awake.
They are trying to doing that with my memories now.
Dear Klarise,
The apotheosis has something to do with the blindness and a father finding justice for his daughter. A searching vision without any veils of virality and morality, I cannot bear the abortionist enabling irrigation of their labouring understandings of their choices of misunderstanding. Furthermore, the uniformed military here look like women after a haircut, I felt embarrassed walking past.
A designed accident of many, which corrugated to a mystery, and a father's vehement emblazonment for the law. In my travels of the past, I have met strangers or rather a friend before we know each other. In that state of sleeping distress, a fax from the past was a comfort, like a cloud drifting off.
I said to Gonzalo, with surmised surprised, that a reminder of a more sensible finesse of living, was nice. He introduce me to a travelling equanenamournful page that I did not know how to chapter.
There were many locations of interest and architecture, that swirling sky and luxorious creak curving at five centimetres a second, amongst the five stars of the pentagonal occupancy via media, that seemed like a snowflake when you are near the stratosphere of a bouncy and calamining presence.
The blinking numeruneo did not impress me, rather it was the claded cloaked, retina walls where the fanged vernacular roses of personage that were not met, yet introduced. In a booth making a indecisive phonemail, as if a man from another play, unable to translate the mnemonic lithe that surmounts when smoke cascades from serpentine liovidity.
The transparent imposition imaging of memorise and thoughts are their sense of an assassination via dark, unspeakable, methods of scaling. It is unthinkable.
They are after the linguistic capacity because they lack the labelling nutrientional factor and with that, they are more curtailized than those who visit them.
The Jesuits Ja Elle Enfant Miserable seems to be differential and diverse.
Roubaix.
The symbology has nothing to do with, unless it calls you. There are vines of limestone and petrichoral candlebrailleic cyanidecynical watergatewalkways, where the river glimmers with metallic clemency.
I will write to you, from the morror.
I try to stay away from ghee, or any dairy products mostly.
They are trying to make aware of horrible things that are I do not want, to liquidate information.
These are horrible, beings.
Thee Saamiyar from the temple near my place seemed disappointed when he offered me some milk and I refused, due to my personal reasons.
It is not my problem.