Diary of Jezebel

She whispers when she walks, one word at a time,

and O fortuitous the frequency of many a big spirits;


O and she says: "Everyone's trying to steal or end

distract myself away; today I recieve the blessing of

waste simply avoiding thatsoever eternity mays not;


The wave does a-jumble another intuitive forgoing

response, but only according to whosever art willing

to truth: its nervous sooths croon creation's coolness;

Ye testimonial that leads either astray or perhaps

toward no particular place in the still belly of whale;

Then let us relax upon the straight path once its

orignal realization takes toward these almighty days.


Why is the brain bad mostly according to people?


O perception varies intermittently and appears to

absolutely dissolve so, whether really presenting its

procession through seeing other tidings reciprocate;


Albeit the good people make merry oft existence;


Be it thought only, but how do they know what to

do with what one thinking like trying the prophetical

pursuit a lot of families tie tie pasttime perhaps too.


And yet most people don't know whether they've

already married life's compassion, the unkown odd

spousal, plus loveliest lacking significant difference;


And fearful of many things constantly and aching 

irreplacably tremendous like tis a fault to languish at

a beautiful lake just to smirk  every little thing else;


She's finding she needs now a man, because O

women work to keep the glee alive, because its

terrifying to be but without the real lively revelation;


That is strange to partake, bacause sensibility 

forgiving the mood of utmost thought leaping love

sacrifices the percievable forgiving just the world;


Rather than to be involved with a pretty and perfect

existence, thinking sometimes shies through darkness


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allets's picture

your privat messaging is off, dude! Come out and play ~ Stella




Life in a bubble with bombardment afield from select global sellers of everything in the future. Work on line, everything is service or movement of goods. Sound Orwellian 1994ish. Poverty abolished, everyone works. The new Nirvana - the air outside unbreathable, children by lottery depending on water availability - SCI-FY writer's vision.
Stay in touch SIT ~S~

JOKE TEE SHIRTS in a magazine: You know nothing about a woman until she is drunk and mad at you./ Another bottle of wine and no genie at the bottom. (I'll keep looking) / Be the kind of woman that when her feet hit the floor each morning the Devil says, "Oh crap, She up! /  I wish I could drop my body off at the gym and pick it up when it's ready./  I haven't lost my mind...half of it just wandered off, and the other half went looking for it./ No offense, but I was raised to "take care" of my hudband
. Wash his clothes
. Clean the house
. Wear gloves
. Get rid of the body
. Act very sad at the funeral.

:D  ~s~