The Daring calamty

Look, look at the reams and dreams that have inserted themselves nicely into our heads. The dreams of the tweets and gambler’s choices meaning something or other clarified the dreaming of meaning. I’m going to try here. It’s a bit arsey. So I’m going to tell you about the lamb of the land.

The lamb of the land was an animal that did not know the land. The lamb of the land was the sweetest surprise to the farmer, for the lamb of the land could speak. And when it did speak it said many great stories from its mouth. There was indeed the story of the fighting man who walked around the village fighting with trees, fighting with pillar boxes, and fighting with lampposts. It was his fate that one day somebody had the sense to tell him that fighting these objects will only hurt him. He therefore became passive, and in fact a Buddhist. The fighting man really wanted to see a film. He could see the film only if he had the money. He didn’t (have the money). The reason he wanted to see the film was because his girlfriend was starring in it. She starred in it so obviously and so overtly and made like she had the starring role and starred in it well. Unfortunately the man (the fighting man) never got around to seeing the film. But to him there was seeing the film all to do. What a price to pay it would have been were the film and more costly. The cost of the film was ten English pounds. If everybody paid that money there would be such a gross profit that society would be awestruck. That was the idea of making films in the first place. It works so simply. The film community are very good that way, but if you like to make films then film school is good. What else is good is that some films are about science. Of course science is very interesting and good. The science of physics is particularly educating on the matters of the universe, and is the most interesting of sciences. Biology is the worst one, according to some sources and that is a game only the queerest of the queer play in the garden of noise that comes from guitars and rocks the individual, as though he or she were at some festival of noise. The noise of music is different for many people. Some people like rock music, but I find that classical is the one that most people enjoy. I find it decidedly odd, that there’s no one about in the quad, especially God.

Here is a distance that has stretched out until the horizon has no tunes. This highway has no way of bringing nature to example. The lonely rocks and boulders lie lazily among the cactus and vipers. I have thought if I could speak to the lonely rocks, the lonely boulders would find a way out. The snake den has broken open and forgotten child-snakes must escape and thank the nature of destruction. We cannot create destruction, yet there are instances where what can be created are machines of destruction. If in a generous mood the use of crime I am told suffices for laws legality. The other has been trying to find its tune of height and gives us a reason why the body strengthens after damage. You can’t be a waiter if you cannot walk. You cannot work if you have no legs. You cannot have legs if you’re a tree; that’s what I always say. Now, basically speaking, the musician of the group is an expert at playing his instrument. When playing his instrument he is a master of music engaging with playing. His group are also musicians and when rocking a tune are feeling the notes like men of art painting a piece. The group play rock which blaring out causes tons of dancing among the crowd who like it very much. There is rocking to be done and the music is helping this group along. They are very good at rocking their songs being experts and musicians. So basically, being a musician is great since you get to play the crowd.

I was reading a book about the fifties and copying it for learning new harmonies. The book about the fifties was hardback and generous and great reading, but the reading of the book took place only once I had made tea and started eating sandwiches and I knew it was good reading. I knew because the content of the book about the fifties was full and wholesome. The reading of the book was like the drinking of the tea or the eating of the sandwich I had made where reading could be easy to digest and entertaining to me who was thinking of penning a writing and publishing it. I was writing a piece about the sixties and writing it was making it good and pure and I published it so that reading it could be a seating kind of prose, where you sit (or lie) and reading my book and all that it made explicit in explaining the sixties was like being an author. And writing my book I came to some amount of praising which was a thing that was fulfilling promises made by fortune tellers who predicted the years I would spend writing and climbing all the way to the top of my game. Yes, I climbed and it was like writing was a great friend with benefits over the top that underpinned my success in this area and it was success, and I likened it to being an author of some top notch technical works before I made it and thought of myself as this author, but i kept my name. And in keeping my name I had to turn in great tomes, and in keeping my name further in the light of fame I would sacrifice my pursuing musical careers and was, in short, an author. There is a means by which a writer of books is an author of lives, and it was by this means that I would retiring early work just until the defining moments that I could hear in my heart singing. And when I met my publisher he made me thinking of the seventies call upon the grace of the truth and I loved it when he did. In terms of my book he brought it out, publishing it in the number of thousands, printing it for thousands, showing the book among awards type people, and soon, the books I had written were aching for attention and making the news and impressing the public. The public, warming to my works, set about starting a calling group up and in fact they were tickled pink with their big new writing technique that was the bane of my existence. The bane itself could never have forgotten about my conscious coincidence and never thought of the consequence that took her down. My very own nearest and dearest answered a convincing feeling that that was the problem, that I shrank into a cactus blossom, spiking ultraviolet rays with really the claims having filled from an honour. I thought that the quad is a process of biking and saw evil I must be harassed to see. People who talk about the evacuation of aliens must know something that no other people do. They must.

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