Ahold of Shoulder Straps pt2
_conflict
I TELL YOU WHAT.. _while Murrays screaming falling trees...there's Elliot Lyngreen; only when hope is lost; hope is found...damn; ..No. no. no. Only when hope is found; hope is lost. good Lord help write Ohh about _ _ _ _ Yea Murray. Just like that. Murray Webster litters it one hand. Upon aphasia, filtering tangled glimpses contained metallic in them LED crosshairs. sniper peering wildlife…muted Elliot dots then dashes, fingers _ like it pearl jams carves stocking caps stun snag & scat in New Order disorder waves hooded sweatshirt; Yikes without filling the gaps, blanks, formatting the intangible ninjas, stung snuck sunk inside Web's ride; stunk w/_hope close to my own admiring of this great story; and u-turn down into their mmmurraculous touch. yea catch the glow. production. fear of the invisible beings ..,So ignore so ignoring the chaos, the pressure, the doubles dismal red-eye everywhere lingered inside the ride. a great big panic that; yea. That like that. they blast hypnotic. afterlife-like tech tonic torching futures; was..,,Murray Webster’s. So gripped. So cool. Getting a look....He's on our side of _...into Safar Mix. into then the real similar watching. like old undiscovered films as Speaks Pakmer intercepting tides reception, confuses further -with #Zykos......which mmm makes you realize your Myspace are odd tapes. cassettes. you are film. laser school notebooks are you. you vociferous bright goon. already you're the image. you are shredded awesome before they advent. so ho -oh unravel in miscellaneous scraps amongst Murray's/ trashed fwith fast food and fast fingers flying #Moviehome whwith memorize your eyes mixed more over myyeears. impeccable to shuffle and gripped wheel all in an amazing rut steering at that moon, always angles at the moon….I swear….and the thing would go straight. always right.? fucking Murray. busting lone arguments too wicked to escape; the dogged sense of being and of feeling misunderstood..as.Elliots clicking it all into some sense so, so Murray, a Taurus of reasoning [SO WHAT that be the catch. the shadow of electricity..?! eh. Imaginations meets realities. You wanna Touch the blue creativity. the 12,oooVolts. You transformer. crawl the single phase secondary to the marble dark side of the blessed introduction; and once again; surge into residences...hey ?] Reads Pakmer. here's a machete. u remember the way out. #fantastic:_production. poisonous blue shoes walk the moon -bam^click/stocks/+clip_clocks.rt #turntheradiodown and splice it in the time line. bullcrap. Returns Pakmer as simultaneous fiber ferrules link switches converted flashbacks and reincarnate a language but déjà Vu via an Amen that overfilled the bs ..cuz winter! is killing me -this year! call me Tokyo. I'm coming Home!!! Call me. the bells are sinking now. connect and attach if/then and here's hopes entrance] as roars Murray Webster, sincerely, "what!? I told you!! ....what if i am allergic to that inextricable knot? oh boy Pakmer said to put to put it -that it he's allergic to that there hope..." Transferred from the damn tightening as Web freezes breaths, "Link? yes!? type it up! Yes!" [don't wait for your wings to awake. follow the separate parallel phases to reach/ground. Jump ropes? I would. something about streams. and I dont want to be Dali. Scott. Scott free. Sends Pakmwr. don't make the shit up. they made it for me. ahead. write it down. get it... fold it up and leave it in my pocket. follow the brick road. aaaaand ahhhh. Here comes the code, Murray unloads, "Mars Pakmer.". . . . <-Pynchon's exit