hunter7777
The temperature rose. Skyrocketed. Sweat started dripping from the foreheads of everyone in the room. The water, or sweat, started to rise above their ankles, their knees. Meanwhile outside the world stood frozen solid.
Listlessly she typed
Hungrily he battled plague
Thirstily we careened across existence
Meanwhile, our destiny's bore down on us
Telling us that no matter what we did
The outcome would always be the same
I didn't move. I stood and stood. The minutes passed. The hours trickled by. The days took a sledgehammer to my mind because i knew that while I stood there locked inside myself, everyone I knew was dying.
I ate it. i slobbered and giggled and chomped on it. It was squishy and it tasted so good. My senses were exploding as i took bite after bite. I couldn't stop noshing on it.
Meanwhile, 5 thousand stood without food in a kill area with the button saying, "Start."
I know very little about manhattan
I know that it is a city
and a very big one at that
many books have it as a setting
and I'm not sure why
why there and not here.
is anywhere really more important than another place
is manhattan any more important the nashville?
I've never drank beer.
I don't plan to drink beer.
I don't judge people who drink beer.
Beer is good in moderation.
I know someone who almost killed themselves with beer.
I love him.
I don't want beer to take his life.
stories are told to those who listen
those who listen will hear
stories will fall down through generations
and be passed from ear to ear
stores are told to those who listen
The timeline is never solid is never straight is never so exact to let you know the answers of the future or the past just by looking at paper or into your mind.
If you see the timeline
You must be a time lord
and if your a time lord
then you must know it all
and if you know it all
then you can be anything
and if you can be anything
you can be the doctor
doctor who?
In the days that ensue, the earth will turn dark. The waves will be thin and the lights will be grim. The land will dry up. The air will slither in and out of lungs of those without purpose to begin and sing of hope for none is all there is tomorrow.
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