So many assumings that nature has rules, when there are rules and then against all laws there is this magic too fast for me to write, something true to emotion and the echoes blending together, where anglophones see oddly difference between empire and expire. It would be a farce, protesting contesting by the roles reversed, and yet almost there are none in the lunatics. Searching for thoughts and somehow a need to strafe and launch, above and below. You do listen to songs, and somehow music is larger, antethetical, perithetical, postthetical, the self important poetry, and already there are despots who can sleep, not so much as a matter of ethos or logos or pathos, but mythos, for o how many times have the laws and songs and poems wrote of despots who never woke.
Difficulty is an instance, not an infinitive.
Difficulty is an instance, not an infinitive.