Why don't you write

Why don't you write as much anymore, not that you haven't before but it is easier than you would think. Unless ideas don't flow naturally, like the water in a river. Trap upon a log of misconception the words stuttering out blurting a spur of intoxicated ramblings, the drunken buffoon before a typewriter, saddened by his lonely tests for finding words. Not now will you hear them before you. But to himself only hears the audible drip scraped onto the ears of a dear. Words of rippled stifling, a sudden eagerness to drop off into the sunset; carried through distance of truly remarkable vividness; an audible mastery of the sences, combined with beutifuly tantalizing yet delibarate orafaces.

We jump scene, now not so simply will this situation end, nor will it puff its plume into your face. Given the past calamity was intended to be much more severe, what with the alteration to the impartial mentality, a calm drowsiness set in and was only at first causing my alter ego to begin his routine of drama vexation, a multipurpose meta-formation inclined it's dual performance mega-mutual Pollination on both of the fusion tacktics.

What was meant by coming here we thought to ourselves, might have been nice 10,000 years ago, but now its only a playground for kids we feel don't have the proper views in life; i do suppose maybe they have not had glimpse of them yet, but by now come on. Descend down now into a cavernous cultural capital ridden of murals by its own locality, once prized and accredited now fallen and forgotten. The future is dim for lovers that will sleep after sipping, in the day time.