Wednesday, March 21, 2018

SICK DIGGING - Pang Of Pity


“Not forever does the bulbul sing in balmy shades of bowers, Not forever lasts the spring, nor ever blossom the flowers. Not forever reigneth joy, sets the sun on days of bliss, friendships not forever last, they know not life, who know not this.” - Khushwant Singh, "Train to Pakistan"

"The moon seems tonight an intelligent creature. Look at sky how it listens. Stars stars everywhere, just doing being wonderful passionate watching."

A telltale smile of an absolutely monstrous thrill of remorseless guilt and impunity must cling to these goebbelian rats. Proud of their eugenicism and strictures , sending counter culture to feint, a deceit. Epitomizing the colossal failure of the prying peeing. One of the most obvious and atrocious reasons, there fighting, for' is "their sick digging for - "a satisfying pang of pity".

Of all the things I ever lost, persona of self-representation by that horrid, nightmare of weasel's double cross is by far the most terribly adorned & envelope. If only I could lighten up the dizziness of this tragic, terrified purge. How I loath to thee raging rape of the nimbly pretentious kiss faced.

Every single person who had ever crossed paths with them, onetime overly precious worm-tongue, would have been treated like a deadly bacillus, every single one, night or day.

I felt mortified, and wanted t
hese bastards to suffer death pangs.I wish I could then & there give them a death blow with my leng. I so wished that this poisonous massacre was over soon & done away with.

"I returned and saw under the sun, that the race is not to the swift, nor the battle to the strong, neither yet bread to the wise, nor yet riches to men of understanding, nor yet favour to men of skill; but time and chance happeneth to them all". 

Phenomena compel to exhibit tendencies to be commensurated with innate capacity, with a considerable element of unpredictably. This is a parody, but not a very gross one. Dissolving into the vague phrases - this had to be so, tabulating ones thoughts away from concreteness. The syllables of imaginary vague & vivid images revolving around with outcrops occurring here and there gummed together like long strips of words into a sheer humbug of prose & parody 
- Anonymous

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