a few hundred million dying days later he emerges into crazy

why is nothing i can do now. where it went. what that echo means, if anything

there are never really any angels in god’s company, it really just pretends them

excuse me, i thought you were also the center of a fractal

man, it’s hard to come down from impossible hopes seemingly

the center holds itself still that rockets believably may be seen exploding in all directions from somewhere vaguely

we are nearly always a world which almost

here’s a story. it may even be true. where i come from nothing ever sucks, so i

the very idea that i could be

does a king come ready– made, or doesn’t he emerge from a prince once a frog, and aren’t you