franwords

By franwords

April 5, 2013

Tags: creative writing

Category: writing

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Of the friends I know, I don’t really know where we went.  The agitating problem of lifting up a colourful blend, from a spectrum of being normal is the emptiest diary.  Time times ago, there was a land of filling in.  A place full of answers and special suggestions with encouragements to pull the procedure.  There was a went by of non disgusting thuggery, where expedience took emotion to grill the fling.  There were perfect bodies.

There are three versions of love to dream; in three tenses.  None of those involved in the count up to network are really part of the present.   There’s a daily surge of surreal gestation; what went on the past, to reach the current seeing.  

Who is so and so and what washy doing.

If the situation is booked, it may be sold.  Exhibited as birth right, and an answer goes a mirror.  Except the self and solve, and find a partner open ended.    Once or twice, this life has taken off.  Launches from Hollywood and Bernard Blizzard have special effects with all defined.  The lazy mind slob gets abbreviated.  Sweets work the sharks with returning the lilos.   

To be continued.