In thrusting down fingers(sticky with lava burning through barriers)into the chest of the beast, it’s lungs once hollow weighed down full with stones and sewn back shut, one assumes certain responsibilities. And the snarling holes left when fingers withdraw are a thing like a child, once created is owed love and care. The monsters you make are not
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trollytipplelogics.. honesty is the most beautifl utter in the...
how I say... oh it is a dream of infinite awe to be with the most vulnerable love[d]..the strongest beings in the universe are these vulneraeble childrn
for is not doubtless faith and hopefl knowing out of the indeterminant itself not the most beautifl thing in the universe...
And monsters Ain't ugly...
fecalfeci Ain't ugly..
We owe nothing.... love of the child a gift...
[infinite immortaliti... the infiniteofAwe..
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need these mirrors, yes..until their mirrors lov.....stronglyenough to pull from the void, pure imaginings... without the need of a prior..'seed'other than the memory of utter beauti..utter lov....
But all is a gift...we owe nothing, we break ourselves when we fail to Awe in the utter................
beubidi bo...
But are they not the mere health of the ecstatic fragile self, and not mereli duty?
of...course the self breaks[riptures] every the self imagines ripturing..another..............
Soooooooo sad are they..
Any who do not revel..
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One can taste the riptures of one's creations...face with irrefutaeble courage the void, and states of true vulnerability..... the onli way to extend beyond a ripture...
What is ugly...? other than control/pain to/upon another... and hesitation..? healing = irrefutable Awe of the child, always..
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Good writing. ..
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