We all form an opinion of what happens to words.
Unlike a season
It had a reason
And it is never late
If we wait
It violated the clutcher and just spirited on her cheeks.
As if it has been lived by someone else, somewhere.
Such days are like pet dogs. Ownership changes.
We talk about performance, and it looks like such a show-business.
When you have used Clear for all debt, or online forms, or messages…
When you are compelled to feel that it does not matter whether the wind compels you in its favor…
Drama. And the instructor is dressed as a hero.
The narration demands silence.
Gated or ungated.
A few honor me.
A few others live me as if I am a work-in-progress.
While walking, the right leg takes the body weight to let the left one sneak ahead.
It is not a deal. Merely a set of standards.
Just as the left brain gives up when the right brain is busy in a matrix.