Every once in a while things just don't make sense. No matter how hard you blaze through the thought bin, there is no explanation! At this moment, I feel I can comprehend the meaning behind most excursions, but, in memory of the countless majority of time I can't, here's to you, mr. whut?
Habitualization of a one tone nation-
Bursting with breeds, whining delusional needs
Of whippits and tickets that teach us to hate,
Discriminate,
But alleviate the crime and hold on to your mind.
Try to find and equation, an invasion of passivity.
A truce, a spoof of our imagination-
Swinging on a prickly version of a strange excursion.
Haven’t found time to prove the unity.
Always a tick that sticks.
It’s a ruined delux. Need an influx of what?
Tell me, what do you see dub masta jee?
><)))*>...fishin food for thought...
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