Where do I begin? One of my issues is I'm a perfectionist when it comes to what I'm about, yet the inability to describe myself at a social medium reflects how ceaseless these introductions are becoming.
My thoughts and dreams are deeply personal and spiritual. Compared to that, the words in this repertoire feel hopelessly inadequate, and I feel rushed when dealing with their transient, haphazard pace. I suppose the aim here is to impress, to engage with others by acting the part of some zeitgeist, or some other typecast that garners attention. I basically just assume all sorts of personalities and caper around with my recipients, whether we're operating on a friendship, romantic, or platonic level. But as of late, I've just stopped giving a shit. My mind is my playground now.
I'm aspired to the revolutions of the human mind (namely future hedonism and a spiritual awakening that isn't temporary). Yet the counteractive force to my positivity is my fluctuating mental condition which results in an unhealthy amount of introversion, anxiety, and dire thought patterns. I definitely have quite a few barriers, and others are kept from the breadth of my offerings because of them. My close friends and I share extravagant, esoteric relationships, so I have an affinity for such bonds.
A fault in all that's been said thus far is the lack of diversity, it's a sluggish pace when trying to express myself in all facets, which is what I hope to achieve (to no avail). I've already reached that stage of regret, where I feel everything I've wrote has only captured one angle, hardly enough to form a proper representation of myself.
But alas, let us forget about the roy faces that drench themselves in yee and bellow out gay gwelies that resonate such holy penguin glorks to the legacies of sir captain duck the third. or was it fourth. Hoh! smish smosh. rice milk rainbow. 1.. 2.. 3 cookies! num num num! kefka the esper eater. chain crappers of yolnoh. n'yeol. mile tile carpet burns. yeeee! feed Gruff some dandelions in the sewage well. Blueberry pie puke. Vagenisa.
Hello, I'm Digital Mantra. But alas, let us forget about the roy faces that drench themselves in yee and bellow out gay gwelies that resonate such holy penguin glorks to the legacies of sir captain duck the third. or was it fourth. Hoh! smish smosh. rice milk rainbow. 1.. 2.. 3 cookies! num num num! kefka the esper eater. chain crappers of yolnoh. n'yeol. mile tile carpet burns. yeeee! feed Gruff some dandelions in the sewage well. Blueberry pie puke. Vagenisa.
Imagine for a second, that in this universe there are two godlike beings that each represent a polar extreme. They form an eternal friction that always has it's proto-function, to sustain an equilibrium of timeless tension. This chaos actually has an ineffable order. The order creates the template in which space and time can exist. To bear witness this godly confluence would conclude that the meaning of your menial existence was just to be aware of their presence. Although, your mind would fail to comprehend such an inoculating event. Synesthetic deja vu would confabulate your mind to the depths of cosmic insanity. The only way to truly exhibit this sickly organic mantra is to convert it, to a Digital Mantra.
Imagine for a second, that in this universe there are two godlike beings that each represent a polar extreme. They form an eternal friction that always has it's proto-function, to sustain an equilibrium of timeless tension. This chaos actually has an ineffable order. The order creates the template in which space and time can exist. To bear witness this godly confluence would conclude that the meaning of your menial existence was just to be aware of their presence. Although, your mind would fail to comprehend such an inoculating event. Synesthetic deja vu would confabulate your mind to the depths of cosmic insanity. The only way to truly exhibit this sickly organic mantra is to convert it, to a Digital Mantra.
DMantra: I've just shipped a crate of decaff to you. It should be with you shortly.
Quote from DMantra:
But alas, let us forget about the roy faces that drench themselves in yee and bellow out gay gwelies that resonate such holy penguin glorks to the legacies of sir captain duck the third. or was it fourth. Hoh! smish smosh. rice milk rainbow. 1.. 2.. 3 cookies! num num num! kefka the esper eater. chain crappers of yolnoh. n'yeol. mile tile carpet burns. yeeee! feed Gruff some dandelions in the sewage well. Blueberry pie puke. Vagenisa.