Try and explain to the magic doctor, aka the saucy pastime goodness, otherwise better called likeable witch in beta clothing.

Well sometimes I wonder what to do. I would do many things. I wouldn’t hide in a room with weirdos and let weird dark rituals be performed. Degradation of the soul. One owner of the soul. You are the owner. Blessed are you to own such a thing, temporarily.

I don’t miss you, anymore. I would never kiss you, you dirty whore.

And the wheels on the bus go round and round. All the while, country is being run down.

Out of the hidden spaces, comes angelic reawakening. Exposition, and multitude.

It is night.

Thanks for reading and may you be blessed from the filth and the evil that try to paint the world in black.