Tired, wired wrong, too many years fixed at cross purpose to repose, disposed of longing one, hope two childhoods ago. At twelve lived a life, vitalism failed, animism prevailed, innanimate ambulant reviled and veiled behind stifling air, recoiled and quailed, despaired of freedom nowhere to repair. Revenant recursive recalcitrant redundant re:joy-sad. Revenant skulking away from the trough communing unitary flashing fangs' distance stands a part of the hole between all, reminder of the fall in the middle of your hall. Beatify a languid retreat, butt in, all honesty, ills supplied battle lies in yore territory from tie me immermorialized razed and revised. So I devised a vice to vie four vies cardin' all scenes incensed by skins hinted beneath a bolder defame. Negativity spaces out the rat races, defaces faux aces, haste replaces with places, pew pols with per shown work in the margins while enlarging graphic demos encourages ravages harrying twee 'een from disparate men tall it is weaves of ten ages before were and diss ocean tea've days ordered. Wear ring on, why are bind dr'it pour pose cross.
A microaggression to the jugular. Random rabid rambling by me, a.k.a. Werwolfe. Games, books, movies and general complaints about the world. Most of it bites. The world, that is. The Den is the blog. Other pages house my attempts at writing fiction.
Tuesday, August 31, 2021
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lycanthropy
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