"I wrote another tale to finish outwards and inwards from the heart, soul, and the visions of God's grace onto the world. But, I do mutter quite a bit. I wonder, what reason do I continue to write with consistent admiration for those whom can write with measured smooth words, all without the need for countless embodiment within the realm of the broaden sentence.
I must contain happiness throughout the venues of hatred that persuade me to die. I can’t resist the temptations to act according to the definer needed in our language. I have become demoralized with natural thinking, as I was fine a moment ago, and I have failed.
But, I shall continue to learn, and become what is needed of me. I shall continue to live on-wards, and write onto the basis of contracted love that desires me, embraces me, and suffice to love me onto eternal life.
For I have an eternal life to remain true to God, if I can, in which I know that the blade can crack on contact with shields. What am I to do when I become neglected and left out in the rained-out street? I need to continue, and confess the sins I have done for mistaken confidence does offer me downwards into a deepened suffering which conflicts with the confidence I have been maintaining throughout this former week.
Aid me Almighty God, help me write the words I need to use, and not what I want to use; aid me, even the word “please” is redundant to me. I believe it is the reason of ADHD that massacres the fruitless flies onto me, stand there, and agape with childish interests---companionship divided!
“I won’t surrender, I will fail better next time.”
I decided to reenact a draft for a tale I told to-day, and was beaten to the punch of a natural wonderment known to cancel the ambiguous intentions called out for, destined, and available to a greater interest of human knowledge.
Whose aim condenses uttermost conscious invaluable trust? Do I trust onto God within full limits, limitations settled across the broad bordered trust fund confined in this world. I continue to sneeze with such force that the entire house is available to the ear.
What reason at all do I condense such possible escape through carcass belief? The nose is stuffed with snot, corrupted into breathing, and I continually sneeze with posture raddled. I search across the borders of the Mexican country onto the borderline, rainy and falling torrents, belonging to the natural wonderment of life as I mention such disease onto the others. These humans won’t be able to tell the difference, I heard someone tell me once, as I cleaned the bathroom stalls, I wondered with excitement breaking the thoughts congress advised: “Don’t make a government upset when the world is smaller than the palm of the human hand!”
There are several humans residents outside to-day. I wonder what goes through their elevated minds? Frank, across the street, smokes marijuana like a fiend, and Teresa suppleness the ideals to communicate with me when available as I take the dog out, or the mention of actually retaining the grass blades to examine.
“What sort of fashion sense did I perpetuate throughout High School boarded education?” I come to wonder in brief intervals of interests. Because, in all sense, I had the attire of a teacher. But, as I continued to wear the same black coat, and the red, darkened scarlet brand of collar shirts, I demanded onto others to reminisce their vision onto others. I wore black clothing for the reason of default Pride. “Who can possibly entertain me without the greatest grandeur to satisfy the industry that propels against natural conditions, forgotten realms of natural wonderment belong here, but the pride of the Hollywood director is surpassed onto dissension. Who, indeed, can cease the involvement for traditional order and law?”
Awoke this morning with a dire need for sustenance, which followed with conversion of matter and spiritual elements conversed with natural abilities to confess natural love. And here I am, conversing with oneself onto the matter of narcotic intentions.
What else could possibly pour out of me?
I stature forwards, leaning inwards, and tell the woman beside me, "I'll make some coffee, but I have become abhorrent towards the taste, and I become disquieted to resistance."
I am getting better at home.
I'm thinking about getting a cat.
I think it will be a male.
I had a male for 17 years and a female for 15 years.
Rusty and Francis were good cats.
Maybe, I will have two cats?
A female as well..
I have freshwater aquariums.
A 38 and a 55 gallon...
I like live plants and Angle Fish and catfish.
I'm boasted onto the Lord, and I complain about the mature vision of human ancestors belonging to congress! In other words, the stature of my thinking is drastically taking effect on me, as the medication has dominated me into restlessness, but also onto the confinement of terrible atrocious valor, which honors slumber, deepened onto deep spaces.
I am chilled with comparisons of myself towards other authors bestowing themselves forwards, and me retreating backwards. I want to read, but the procrastination desires me to simply find an abode and confine in it, all without reason or metaphor.
I said to oneself the previous last week upon Sunday: “I will watch an anime, and write down a tale about it in the given time I’m allowed.”
But, it’s still returning to me, this idea to write down a collection of stories to recuperate my divine intentions.
“I’ve never confined in the definition of a probable job in this life. I am concerned about the implications of work being the main directive in life’s understood boundaries. I wonder what it’s like to work, not that I haven’t worked before, but I have complications to survive the main reasons behind daily living.
I’ve never thought that perhaps I was self-evident and compromised to be the final demand for human understanding, compelling me to compromise—less it be sweet love, or demanding institutions of love, kindness, and the compassion towards human personalities.
Ever since I awoke from slumber, I have been miscalculated. I don’t know the reason my emotions settle and become suppressed besides the allowance of medication diving them down, down into the darker corners of the heart which have little, or none, appointments to survive in the light.
If I can’t even handle one emotion, one thought progressing to natural abilities—what honorable thought shall I become known to satisfy upon without answers to divide the heart? In other words, the light is stronger than the incoming darkness.
I must continue to write, as I have been, but the depressive infliction conforms me to dearest answer and sullied questions shall burn with birthing notions.
“The simple measure of love does demand truth among the people of Israel. Wonderment becomes sedated when their weapons fire above the main coordinates of our human heads, brisked with hair, or bald developments.
When the final words are published and extracted from the brain, shall I endure with severe pain? Contortions are available to me without presumed conspiracy, elevating natural involvements for the partaking of love and the awesome treasures God makes known to those who seek His Almighty Loving Face!
“The main incentive of life covers me with Godliness that performs into saints through the Lord Jesus Christ, I shall owe much to the burden in life. Welcome me into the welcoming hands of stretched invitation."
I understood the main message brought to me in the earliest of morning sunshine. The blessed North had invaded, and I, too, became unavailable to the weapon lurched in height and measure towards a greater weight not known to these two hands of mine. Concerned, I said, "I mustered the odd embrace of writing something on the website, known to us as a formation of encouragement. I do write with consistent pulse and phase, but I am more concerned about the notion of written texts that produce from the human brain."
I removed the rifle from these two human hands, bellowed outwards a shout of extreme pretending digestive investigation, and continued with mere words: "Who can satisfy the immeasurable joy that does not evaluate well?"
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