What? What! The word, which passes through my brain synapses to cause sepsis from within, an autoimmune toxin.
Where? Where! The query that I say so dreamily to wish for the answer which would cure cancer. Finding the genesis of our hypocritical impiousness.
But we smooth the sheets then beat the sheets in the many dead bodies in the streets, causing the chuckholes, bowls of rain in the pain; lumps, the bumps of a virus to tie us all to the gallows with a noose not coming loose. Strangulating and defecating on such a pristine being from the beginning which is spinning out of control and quite befitting to where the human existence has caused a defense in the mechanism of humanism.
Antibiotics being the narcotics of this chaotic state which we all have the same fate of the dark side. Subside into the mindset of complacency, fancy an easier way of living. Never giving, it’s all about self!
I’d rather die poor; Fuck the wealth!
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