gtb

I got so A-1 pura, I figured I'd search for whole eras. I started in my mirrors, stared back at my errors. Stayed under pressure, displayed my displeasure. Never again, I promised myself this again. How many times, times ten? Sometimes I think there's no one like me on all of these planets, but most days I feel like taken for granted. I will wield granite. I breathe like asthmatic, with breath so dynamic that you can't have it. My time physical- space it turns to magic plus gets radio stations that only earth grounds to static. It's like I got brain damaged or whatever..... somehow just barely manage to forgive my own creators for causing alla this havoc. Can't pray forgiveness cuz no one takin stabs at it. So everyday it's watch my back and spot the plastic. Every day I work for action and by all accounts get fascinating-pulsating-and regenerating to contemporary ventilation. it's the stuff we breathe in....