The thin line between fact and fiction are the butterflies which come stormy weathers.

That’s why you gotta play it dumb, take the piss all over where they constructed walls and death zones because some people had a difficult time telling the right time, and for a short time, their minds misjudgment brought more division to their times, than any atoms split, and the stories told fell into place like a perfect puzzle.

So it you’re a what, needing the conflict to avoid the void when unable to converge because Asian vegan foods, oh well, like bombing the Persians for the postal services is inconvenient for the timeless closet, well, you know how to converge, but you don’t have the time for that, and if you’re of organic sack of nature, you and your shit sack of chicken farm, ink does the trick to get things right.

You get the gist, and since not a personal type of legend to play when darth faders, given the who’s in the know of thinking, I don’t get you. What the fuck is wrong with you?! Is it about your hurt feelings to statue an example of me going cruel or too many wrongs to stand for, gringo?!