Presbyterian divinity

Monday, October 15, 2012

Now I know why we have written our entries. When we try to write we always give ourselves and thus make our destiny. All it takes is a little ingenuity in the mode of making sense to ourselves and we can produce the prose of Gods.

But let me tell you what helps, if i have not just done so. What helps is the freedom of communication. Of course there are some things which cannot, should not be said. I daresay i will not say these things. And look at you, you reader of sense and passion. Don't it make you feel good? Don't it make you feel good to be alive sometimes? I'm talking sense here and i am doing that with a passion that rectifies all prior investigation; investigation into the sitting sense of standing up.

Yes, i know who I am. I am, inevitably, myself... a myself who is happy within himself. I sometimes like to forget myself in the name of completely nonsensical aberrations. These aberrations are at once fitting and complete, and this even for a man who has just detailed that the future is rain, rain, rain. Perhaps one should not remember this all-encompassing rain in favour of empty gestures and empty phrases; ones that never teach nor seem to learn. And yes, it is profound when the chucking of bad theories is continued by the rest of the genuine scientists. I could come up and be seated for the baptising of the people in the pub. I could lose my mind in embracing the scissor kicks. i could be really evolutionary and give operation braintree the treatment it deserves - but i would have to believe in myself. For my audaciousness would be forgotten in the face of a very big bodybuilder. He is loved but he has to forget about my advances. They always asked me why the leaves had to fall and why in approaching the ground they seemed destined to twist and turn. And I could only give the answer passing attention. It is only right the twisting and turning should jest for the standing alone. This jocular action removes the weed of fear for insects; the sheer size of the leaves unforgiving in this particular scene.

And there we have the opinion of the sitting constable, drinking and smoking like the money that you have to pay for lighting. And I was; I was part of the entrance committee. Oh but i do not feel like I used to. This exquisitness of prose writing and attention to detail tells me something is wrong and that i must have something to deal with. But no! That is not the point. The point is to ascertain what in hell is going on. I guess, in hell it is very cold and dark and nasty. The thing is I can recollect my senses and that is wonderful. However, the darkness has fallen. I am psychotic and cold. Under cover anitpods and allow me to be a gentleman... I can introduce cancellation corrected and try with my heart that i may ovulate the eggs of chicanery. All of the thatches in the roof are all there fresh in season. I was sure the allusion checks sign in what they do as humans which may mean that the enchanted dice the onion. This is the onion we shall decorate our big macs with.

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