(freeflow) handcrafted in a daring ritual of great proportions. Typing at a mind stream rate of 555 th. Don't think, just rightoously look at the keyboard when you attack the ledtters in a fluid state. Never stop. Never stop. It's an exercise in twin falcons upon the steering wheel. Turning around in your own justification. Never the less, I spin on the tip of that ritual. Chocolate desire in a mist of trailing smoke. Las time I tried to carry one for myself I died and gave little to mind, and minded little to the give. Yellow chime in a spun-quest at a national desk. Lipstick-smeared upon your cheek. Bushy Busy eyebrow momma. Cheese flows thrut he flame of a worn shirt. Undernearth the thread-bare tale you weave beneath the stair. A borrowed push-mower and skin tone lawn. Master the fact of intrepedation and culture grunge. Spin the action, name and place into a self-owned classic moment of sense. peace- seanrox