Phased by theatrics. Morphing uncalculated. Standing on the achievements of embarrassment and hope. By what measure is my unpopular thinking the outcome of solid discussion, especially with superior? Has the calculus I’ve derived replaced good old-fashioned contemplation. Alliances ought be built freely not born of smoke plumes or lost ridges. Figuring and estimation although similar are unwed disciplines.

To this day I give my regard. Seeking no dominance or reward, I retreat to nowhere, because that is all that I own. In demonstration or folly standing may be lost when contemplating how to capture the keys to any city. Upon reliance the true standing of character is determined. Wax and polish may cover up blemishes, but scratched paint is not simply an issue of detail. Below the surface lurk to tidings of giants and the shame that bore Rome to irrelevance. Rust happens whether you were looking or unattentive.

Morays and forays, all things take a tussle to muster. Showing up for hostage return is akin to testimony. Waylaid by the foremade, anticipating the drawing board inconclusive. That staircase returns to this escalator which takes that elevator to unlisted floors on the schematic. In devious reply I asked for the maker’s deposit. Only after careful review was my name even mentioned once when reading the roster. All foster for evidence must be exchanged for reason at back forty.

Which painting will you offer at auction? What thoughts are justified by conclusion? What analysis bears loose the gravel of deepened understanding? Into which pond would you dive intending moments upon bottom? To what state do we relate when we relegate ourselves to a particular date? At whose prom was I expected so early? Into the night I bought passage across the pond everlasting to rule in the dawn of good candidates. At the farm we grow things often dark and dangerous but most frequently eternal.

As I pondered, I watched, and the sight of all things brought me favor. There were no Herculean efforts only meager attempts at good standing, but my footing was improperly intended. The sliding confiding in unexpected friends the fears and follies in my aspiration. To find adequate divorce we use remorse, guilt or argument. Deploying confidantes our shadow was challenged at each entry. To find relief we sold all but the dog of our findings.

Frontiers depth is only marked twain in the crossing. Our rivers never lead to the sea but find depth and pooling in the valley of our regret. Unto good posture all means and muscle must be dedicated. In reaching new heights old breathing must be surrendered. As I found the hand holds the footing departed. A river runs dry at its source and full of fury when the power depends upon its choices. Into my mind’s eye I plunged the sharp stick of my idiocy. There were no new agers in attendance to remember.