the absolute zero

now not later maybe surely not punctual punctuated stop gapped toothy ungrin natured and nurtured

for the again and etc.

security rejuvenated ground wired up-righteousness false or naught for positive spin of

the oodity and where, does. and it comes from and to or with.  the what is that is means to a

middle, obfuscated without reasoning perhaps just that bit

overexcitement is at least motion and speed, while not path is that which is, that velocity. digress.

back to character, the meta which is wow chemical and living is preferred over a the mix up of material which cannot be used nor disposed, or as disposed disrupts the leisure of others, while providing for the ones which give to, what again? time wills and does it also, show and tell like a clown on a birthday or a particular toy that you only use to show others, light saber, odd that memory, circled in a dark light woody natural light classroom of the kinter kinded, mrs. whatsit.  wish I had the book, altho, really well there was none for that {year}.

paste eaten also for the show, as well as the no show underwear that he had to tell the line.  where is he now?  I'd like to send him a jar and a crayon to eat, he preferred the black ones.. probably jelly bean based, or so he made us believe.  and that was the clown as well.

much later, and not as much were the mathematical planets of solar, halled up and re-invented for the one guy who surpassed all material.  new planets, really?  well he passed the tests. . . oooook

I mean did he name them too, that seems like giving a whole number lot of leeway to a boy who could divide like no other, or so it would seem, but it was written, so likely there were.  i think he got into chips, at least that's my minds eye - larger and Asian which oddity had is was a combo for him, like an employee of the school even -- alas i neglect to remember his name.

butter.  yes creamery passed and past, around the room, who would stop and take the time and take a taste when it warbled?  I did, in fact, and was it before or after the teacher mentioned - simultaneously was likely, probably the look.  it was undyed and unsalted, and warm of course, and the teacher had picked up the pint on the way to class, or perhaps she stared into her fridge and thought about her day, and whatever made her happy, and that was butter today.  seeping and seemingly we had just that and were happy too

quite and quiet a memory recalled does weep the angel aside and forth a bit for a time and more so as we enjoy what has just and happened.  

the replay for others may be similar in an instantaneous recall and sharing of a particular item of memory gluon which has naught seen the daylight in many many an occasion, and perhaps as such may open other windows and doors, or lest the synapse be destroyed, or at least accessed, connected differently, and that is how we work anyway, re-invented for the liquidation of warbly water all over the me and etc.

glimmer just a bit, should it be on me or my clothes; well likely some of each and neither, in the state of material heat as it is,  but settle for just a, hang, and swiff.

combulatory motion is now snot and tear on a clean bit of sleeve, and the wondering of which powers the other - yes some snot powered recollection of the state of Van Der Waals, made him happy and thought he'd muck up his sinuses as well, or likely it was the same clearing, that forest for and about the trees, not falling and heard in ones own particulars of voices.

to force a recall of ram is like a truck stop bag of chips, tinted and flavored in coolness blue, for whatever that means, yum.  marketing, already known to be droided dried and followed as in skinner, b.f. and that's before, as in b.c. or the latter part of the before of the after, for how else was he known?  roman fire? perhaps, libraries had a tension that day.  I wonder if he had a card. . . or a license to drive cross like that in the middle of the street.. pulled over was he, ouch and as soliloquies go, untwisted from himself and the combiluatory messes that made him a mess, or perhaps the reality of the virtual state which people felt, naught around him, or to show him how they had been attacked in their sleep, by the many an others and themselves, piled high unfun of the same, as drawn for the likes of how unliked they themselves had become, still fighting for, well fighting is all they did and do, now and wither and unsaved, poor in a state of material pokery, and inflicting, as in all the death without a single scythe to wield or cloak to mask or hide, but is it to hide? very likely so, for as death sees himself, and it is a man, or as he sees others more like, it is apparent that he himself is undeniable, and that is because he only speaks to, and who else is then speaking to a person with death in a particular leveraged point of contact, who would dare, the world?

it a funny thought, naught, that which is man, is whatever is near, material to abscess the light from another, to where it goes must still be in negotiation, or so we believe, and that makes it so, and so, but wouldn't you prefer life, death would never ask, perhaps, or perhaps nobody can remember what death asks.  

if I were to rate it one a scale of 0 to 10, well life would not require a scale, to measure, and death has a point to notice, which is this: see.

its not grand, as in the oceans, nor silent, tho perhaps it is, but visual, well only if you're a buggery.  cold without a wind, grabby and pokey, for the mockery and uncasual unplanning of nothing in particular, drawn by each of us, in beauty or foul, sometimes one sided and sometimes two or more, likely no more than that.

a mistake, is just that, careful now, redo.  see.  its take and unjust, which is how careful we normal and are, but to example a mistake, again, see.  we do.  brilliant and dumb, and preceding, isn't it?

the maths fondle each other while physicists propel their minds naught bodies into a space without humans, or perhaps they are willing to use just some bits of themselves and not others, in preference, we have that choice, but wouldn't it be: better to use the bits that need using at the times when (we) needed them, in the time spatial material wellness to propel yourself and others to their locale and spatial being of choice?  of course, and we have that economy, unlike a Hundai and just as wasteful, plastic side paneled in a junkyard, unsure if it’s used and maintained or peered and pressured as in an upgrade, or wanted and forgotten, I digress. why? in that line of reasoning is precisely why and enjoy a Hundai if that's your mode.

there is and a current, no more, or less, as is too, indeed, this air too.. artificial death piped and unadmired, or is it an echo from seashells in the ocean, thrashing about limbs off a plank or otherwise interrupting the natural body heat of man and woman to provide for the unnecessary breathery of another who does not wish to share a bit of gut feel or perhaps is not known enough to capably to do, as may finds a month which is spring and unattended to a place where understanding were once or could have been reached, as in the toothbrush, from a sleepover, stashed then as a trophy to bring and wield before the night was through.

is that correct?  in as much as the wind continues.. its hard to know with the noise, as in the coverings of spaces by a coldfront exhausted and unvibrant but brisk, like the Lipton tea we're no longer able to enjoy.

squirm.  its at this point, where visuals of the oooey kind may be in-kind and rewinded and replayed for the material witness of jobs well done, as in light reflectance and inter-netted fishy transglobules of performatory enjoyment.  yes, in just a bit, and byte, by 16 and 64 times two, etc, unless a mega byte, and more, stream trouted up, like a trouser leg which waggles and wets a spot we'll call pam, as in the unstick can of spray which is neither buttery nor salty, but comes from and stays near the ocean with Popeye, olive.  oiled up and tawny, eww, perhaps not quite the imagery, of the woman who called herself that.  or did I ever see her, naught - wow I did miss out.

. . .

are blood types exclusive to the shape we stand, share, and travel? possibly and quite.

/\ O and AB for water and nutrients. hum.

what if.. there were an artificial blood type.  odd that, would it even work, an augmentation of

O-, the ACDC interrupt.  well the movement of, well, movement outward is how life travels in one direction while death travels in another, simple.  for the earth to refine out of human control.  elegant.  

so what of organics and hot living, to be specific more than necessary, well quite frankly organics, while known to use-up, deplete, at a cost to the effects they normally stimulate, what happens in a normal body?  say: garlic.  good for the heart right?  well hot means it goes straight to the heart and interrupts the flow floody flowability.  take sugar.  normally injected as glucose into the systems, as the quite quickest boost, but hot?  well it still hits hard but erodes these systems, starting where you'd expect, with the heart being the most protected.  and how is the heart protected besides, well the thick and fibrous walls which insulate its own power systems from the rest of systems, allowing groupings of blood to provide for each other in chambers of celebration or downright survival.

the body adapts.  and can be repaired incredibly quickly, if the remedy is continued and depleting behaviors, in this case is.. well all the things... going back to anatomy..

commitment, that is the red blood cells choice to be a full blown contributor, like us.

briefs on all the things. 

what we want: flush garbage; and by doing so we need to replace thing.  if we can't replace things or build things, well we still want to flush it with minimal deterioration, and for that we need to disabled the deteriorators, those are organic - de-activate as it were, then they're not attacking the systems, but then we need tertiary systems to provide support.  this is kind of how it works anyway, in fact.

we need to know the specifics of how corn is death.  well its a grain, so. it can produce alcohol, ah.   and what does alcohol do but, and specifically, combined with, say a malt which buffers, it accelerates just like glucose, but in the burn-y kind of way, hum.  

so just a brief on this pesticide, which is so small it can never break down.  so small it lingers in water forever and ever, or does it.. would be interested in how those in the know treat this.. and I think I know.. by diluted it through bodies, hum that's not going to work.

red light therapy sounds like a good idea.

oh maybe. or.

so back to alcohol, from grain, and grain, in addition, and the accelerated burning, and then more alcohol.  how does the body get rid of it?  'oh how we get rid of corn. . .'  love is the closest answer I have for now, specifically .. . re-spark

so back to gut, and that's a little joke.  the expanse push is where the gut microbules escape at the sterile point of non-exit, from the stomach and into the blood stream, to remove antigens.  more on this.  we need to know how blood otherwise gets out of the stomach

now metal.  that was a horrible idea to take it out of the planet, eh?  well yes and no and no is no always and yes only sometimes, so you have it, the definite indefinite.  its good for things and not for people, wholly.  but wait, we are part metal, yes.  and we do conduct, our business of living like a dielectric at times, bent in fact.  well some do, grin ;)  facts are foods leach metal out of the ground and we eat them, and whether THAT is a good idea is in much the same fashion, as in able, ible?  yes quite.  back to figs.  leaves perhaps, and there goes the issue, or here it comes, or now, while it’s covered up, eh?   that's got to be good for a laugh, and its bellow the corollary to the articulated arteries of the power of power generation, the old fashioned way, by means and ways as is the old profession perhaps.. or was that second.. well one came before the other, and that's always the case, now isn't it.  you wouldn't want to blow apart the universe with simultaneaty, now.  well now you wouldn't.  its that precise cycle which allows the world to rotate on a regular schedule, check the moon in fact.  more on the female orgasm can be found in a library, by a librarian in fact, dressed up at night as in a wool unsupposing coat with hidden talents perhaps, and that is one outcome -- it comes in paperback, bada bump.

now the male orgasm, well quite evident and evidence in fact.  well the assistance requited make it fit well into society perhaps.  but which society, for present and future, is a big questioning and burgeoning selection of goo.  metoplasm the kind which is always making choices and participating in new adventurous systems, great going.  the spontaneous generation and decidoidal factoring of genomic figurings and latices makeup for the makeup on her face for the evening, no doubts there.

so what is your game, besides a changer, change about thinking one thing and acting other, as we do anyway, the warmth in pravity is amensual to provide the prodide, floored-ides sac-rides, and rides in general, like a horse around or follow on dolly boo some ooze and jest-ured muckery.

see, even and keeled it makes one want to.  go on. down and about and ongoing as in ward, the unstable place to be stable, stabled for the run, or run for the stable, your choice, and what that means, in particular, is how you read it, through the choices that brought you to this paragraph, as writer and listener now and in the future, of which future is where you are just. . . now and then again.

these works of words are fun, thank the ability of communication, which of course is as nature as, a course perhaps, co-ercsed sometimes, if that is your leisure.  that seems to be a whole milk different animal and the animal of that sort is not available for. see what's that word but spontaneous genetic mutation for the benefit of the near and future near, as stochastic and unedible as they were maybe once or would like to be, or perhaps, as in the restaurant, they enjoy what we enjoy, through the miracules of milk and digestion.  the cat purrs.  the four stomached animal listens and responds to the other animals on how great life is, through the tele-digestion of another.  yes i said how milk works.  and specifically, its the combination of Van der Waal and unique enzymes which are produced by an individual body of other.  this connection is purely for the function of providing a means for the parent to feed the exacting nutrition to another.  man milk?  missing artifacts and indeed the empathetic enzymic materials, but we make it up, and we do sometimes.  digression is not a strong suit of carded material here.

if a cow had to poop in a designated places and travel to and from its paradiasical grass outdoors, we'd never have a happy enough cow to not catch and process all of its gifts for us, not including meat of course, which is not quite an offering, but the reversal of this milk phenomenon, wherein the digester receives the instructions on where to get the damned milk. . . and when the milk craving runs out, as it does because we're no longer children who follow rules, we axe the damned cow, or more precisely the holy wholly milked cow, and discover that meat and milk go toghther too!  or does it.. well that's up for your parents to decide, and it does if you're brought up that way..  or maybe you have a soda and damned the organics with a bubbly sucrose that'll bleed away the bled away blood from the animal like it and yourself, simultaneously and without effort besides gravity and the gaseous all-encomposing expansion of.. well gas.   might as well burp and fart for that one, tho silly a notion, and not at all likened to the pristanity which was the human condition before you started slaughtering your very living connection to another being, well.. and no so well, welled up in fact, and caged and bordered, and that seems to be a crux of a problem, in our states and affairs, affairs being those things we enjoy yet throw away.  best of luck getting out undamaged.

and so.  the red light appears, and works as in a low enough frequency to attune to, much like the orange fire sky as noticed and mentioned previously as a telepathic blockade, a simple long range obfuscation, allowing nearer tele-communication and commuting.  too bad about the particular particulates.

should we consider plastic again, now why.. if we knew then what we know now.. is an impossible preposition to a means and about way to undisover what was needed then, which was likely nothing, as we didn't need anything before then, and so forth and backwards some more, until.. until.. another funny word when looking at attempts backwards, until . . we need absolute and nothing. one in the same. the positive spin on nothingness.  and that.  is our universe.  you're welcome.  its always here, always was, always was nothing which is why we can never see it, and it will always provide because it is positive, and whatever we do, is so amazing and so incredible, and builds so much on the prior and priority of another, that any sample taken, is much like an experience of nitrous oxide, and I don't know why, but its operatic, as in an opera, as in a lifetime of a story in 75 minutes or 85 seconds, as it takes to load the cartridge and deprive a set of breath for an alternating gaseous expansion, and while nitrous is fat-soluble, as in whipped cream, it as well provides a semi long termed effect of the effects of effects of effects, warble.  which of course does very little to solving the past, but at least provides the humour to realize that.

back to malt.  ya know my neck used to be much larger, with all the hops and lager.  not attainable at current, physiologically speaking and actually non speaking.  those bits are boring.. but malts are milk too, and maybe that's a combination of cow + more fun so you don't end up eating one.. a cow that is.. or a malt in this case.

i do find its time to publish, although I can't fathom a fathom of ocean why at this time, besides wanting to do a different thing for a bit of change, which is change, and in this case repetition, and well. time to chatter.  i wonder though, i mean.. if I could share all these texts, which I do, and people enjoy them, which they must or they wouldn't deliver particles of joyousness to my being, well then, yes I must then.  somebody may be needing this in a remote subsection of the planet, and the planet may need that, at this time, and its time.

. . .

peace and always the love which works briefly and forever, see, as a continuation which i may set to power griddles to fry on the cakes of ease, this is aqua Q and the mind as a fruitful glucotic or a kiwi of a squared peachy i wonder what flavor is and we will discover that connection of the mouth through to the anus, in our next episode.  c 3 w