narrow mortar
Through concerned glass spirals is a pouring of insanity onto itself. It flows, the thick liquid conceptualization. A threaded fabric, lingering in the air in a hearty configuration of plural-leaves in a concept-space, fractured across the boundary between reality and imagination. Alas, with a hiccup of normalcy—all return to a goop of compositions. Sequence: fractured—dusted down—dissolving[I AM DISSOLVED] in semicircles. Shaken to the core. I am shaken to the core as there is a semi-circled micro-breach in one fracture with the potential to alleviate negative pain-space. Could this be a result of [THAT_] or [THIS_]? The ecosystem of invisibility lines that make up the layered_meaning of words are reduced to their bare bones, this in itself does not make a difference—but the indescribably complex emotional light switches oscillating at diverse frequencies. [THIS_] makes a difference. {-chain_structure: /force:1} Why isn't it stopping. The forward to back high intensity gnawing of my gums with my nails will continue until the feet of reality disconnect from my pillowcase. When will the physical consciousness get disconnected with the lower-ordered consciousne-{1b: {CONNECTION TERMINATED}}
[Functioning: 0.]
[System time: 3:99 AM. Eternal?(Y/N).]
{Y}
[0: REJECTED]
ember fable
glad bobcat
