stark those rindwreathes

I am the ghost of moment future, I am the stranger that does not leave a forwarding reality: I am the moment that is neither apprehensible scientifically or religiously. I am the capacity to remove yourself from the embedding reality: I am the pause between moments when you realize that everything has changed, and nothing has changed. I am the mutation, the nutation is shield frequencies when you realize that there is an end to the chaos. That is not to say that I have been without obsessions and particular gyrations of my own: I have had people too flighty or too slow or too dull or too whatever: you are here and I will not try to presume just imagine what things would be like if I wasn't so hard about holding on I think you see that my pause, my personal tropospherir maitresse might indulge your passion and therefore more perfect unity might be derived in this chaotick lemma that we find ourselves suspended within and therefore I am going to ask that at this point that someone concede defeat because all temporaneous delays still remain and now it is time to try the cosmic ascension remix.

Because I am drunk, the dvorak pattern is easier for my mind to grasp: I can write paragraphs in it and will later find myself appalled at how much text I have produced in it and this is the point that I say goodnight.