Sunday, 23 January 2011

IN TERMS OF TRIAL

Testing on not getting annoyed, for what or who doesn’t merit, although every case may be measured on its own. Manipulation from head to toe is a threat that is to being alive implied, as you will allow it. The options are there, adulteration created variety and complexity, as well as the weakness and the waste. For a minute, a hot minute, the sun may shine on us, testing the melting levels that we are so susceptible to grasp. I don’t have any firm arm, pointing a destination, to follow. Sure that there must be some, but the signs get so mixed up. So much confusion, too often a weather vane is mistaken for a compass, a false prophet for a saint. Just giving a try, exemplifying working paths, that may or may not work as for someone else does. Bitter sip of dropped delicatessen in some other’s palate as a wonder, I uselessly rendered you my reverence. Not getting through the chance given, not always is consequence of unsuitability. Options boxes to be ticked on the paper, just thinking: why? As well as: why not? Yesterday I was married to being stuck; today I face a renewal full of mistakes. Remodeling interiors, replacing appendixes, devising risks to take, I am thirsty for what can turn to be a traumatic shift. So using nerves of steel, resorting to an ever growing blood cells flowing wealth, I accept the deal in order to not have to think: what if? I take the goods and use the scale, even if that implies contracting obligations that may later be, with some kind of unease, be switched. B_Nour

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