the genuine

article 1, geniune flavour, rushed in, in rush, mounted, more, again.

signaling comes in paired boots on grounded sequen'd dresses, sequestered, language.

a sequenced genome is like.  all the bits at once, not fallen and placed, without looking down or away, only through truth, as in physics shall life begin.

he gets a head start, or is he sure.  perhaps she isn't.

to de-scribe is to put your pen down.  life, proceeds of a gift from its creator, travels electric chemical from goo muck, a billion biologies to match a stained dress, you might chatter on the news for a station break. . . or word of mouth, there's no accounting for taste.

so anyway - that spark, pistoned pleasure, a sorted love of the smattering kind of kind, makes us. true.  like a bicycle it never forgets, and rides writhes, to peak voltages.

23, is no lie, fib o nachi.  like a rose, it pedels like that bicycle.  g nome, in our garden on the eve of, well isn't that a laugh in the branch we took, and the fork, all together.

knock knock.  who's there indeed but little old me, balls to the wall quiet and fran ticking time to resticulate.  penetrate, of the allowed kind warble.

which came first, indeed.  takes planning, this.  from the beginning, in matter, and facts.

just and a little extra, that's like cereal, life.  and we like it.

bread, bred, not red ready, just, and yet more to come.  on a count of . . .  then signal, split, once started, o2 carries it forward, no watering this down, its cellular communication, on stage, in stage, coached, and levened.

step forward, you're on a street corner, just like before, only you feel somebody getting cold, is your signal, to move into it and stop smoking heat.  the weather or not is not your option, your promise is to heed and headyness left no sign behind.  raise a glass if it be your mirror or lens or crystal.

be erect, rex, the dinosaur tought us to eat, and died in like kind.  had we known, we would have sown more walnuts, for brains, and trees to liken.

the ark is a parable, two in kind, and yourself, nather shall lose a 1, nor foray into any of the other, and as eaten all shall hear it, from this very bow, bow slightly, desne,

the voice of god did not tell you to build the ark, because you were too crazy and locked away to hear it.  or a story might go if you neglected your signals.

the one who built the ark, was crazy.  but if you heard that part, you ignored the 'as all eaten all shall hear it' from before, as I did.

digress on the ark; signal; ok signal back; it was an ark; not a box, of ..

ok reduction of signaling, i.e. a non o to o, as per maths, observation, creates a non-folding space to live. yes life, rememeber that thing we thought we'd give a whirl, if daddy said it was ok?  yes the spark.  michaelengelo and all that.  so we're here, in non-folding spaces, with a very carefully ordered obseravation, which allows us to be truth, to ourselves and the group, which is true, as far as we know, or the part of us that us, with all inclusive, and the POINT is.. its all inclusive, so the non-observation part allows each group to remain true, as per our agreements, which is our actual bodies.  you like your bodies, right?  well good, because WE, the WE, do too.  and there is no you, there is only us, and that is how your process an move, and don't try to claim anything other than that which comes through you, as your may chose only to retransmit any origin of our universe, and if you travel in agreement, than we're back to that bicycle, which is, again, erect and sans pain.

now obviously there are mistakes, but hopeully not one to kill any of us, you, or the eyes in between, yet once started, you can only spell or dampen, or try to swirly it out into something larger, which, STOP.

pauseal effect, as AC on the floor returns at night.  and our natural desire to forget the pain, produces an unproduced version of ourselves, as a gestalt of even our mistakes, and hence, it is so important to remain true on that bicycle.

and in the end, there is only a beginning to imagine, and that mation part of imagination, is the animate show which is our observation and exhibition of true.  as in straight up and circular simultanously, and traveling.  WHERE rubber meets the road, if you chose not to wear one, and are carried, not a tire tired. and you wear, but don't wear out, and you move, what moves you, IN THE END.

AND WITH that, our hearts may agree in alignment, and know when that happens, there is nothing left to prove, shall it not be given away, but shared only as a beacon of where to follow, if you're into that sort of bubble sort alphabet singing, but anyway.

too much movement and you will create mad people, as a dissed ease.  sorry.

so get up and dance, and let gravity at 9.8 sort it out, just don't jump, start, with a paddle, wagon, red, and rosebud was its name.

i moved, to be comfortable, without thought towards my fellow bodies, and that was the start of a crime of the illegal.  light sense, is your license.  show it once, and be known, then kknow and be pro, and succeed,

peace from the gently fillages of the isle of man, once, twice, ane thrice more from the labs of aqua Q quite definitely in the center and near and about c 3 w