Archived messages creating a thrilling script with plot twist and a surprise ending. A role I was awarded but never read for.
Curiosly I gaze at them with a slight distaste.
Should I keep the part, despite the studios theiving hands.
I’ll have a drink while taking inventory of every misleading syllable.
Perfumed tales, gifted to me like a deep rooted weed in a beautiful brown clay pot.
An ambivalent wild witching laid on my Cafe Bustello eyes.
We should dedicate a shrine to the truths we lost. A place were months of honesty can be comeserated for its sacrifice. The political prisoner in a Trujio run city.
As I keep reading, I notice that ambivalence owned this road. A path filled with faulty concrete and cheap rebar. A pretty wall painted to seem compliant.
…Should I be avenged?
Teach a lesson from an old syllabus. The experience would promote growth like chopping rotted branches off a black cherry tree.
Your ears have averted this lecture before but with some preteaching you might understand my hypothesis.
Sigh, I have definitely spoken too much again.
All the bitter days I’ve shed have dried the air leaving me with lingering winds and faded pressure. Fed a mango seed of rippening tropical rains.
Avenged we still may be—
Each sleepless night redeemed by a few well placed lighting strikes. Evenings when even medicated relief dripped through my pores spiral inside looking to hit land.
Those endless woes helped a cold calm grow especially after I withstood a blizzard of counterfeit smiles.
Perhaps you are curious to see if they could be volleyed. As favor of sorts.
I did not wish to see you shaken and shattered but maybe during the reassembly some updates could be implemented.
A season of lies is tough to forgive. Especially since a fitting storm was never encountered; the gesture returned with zeal.