Natural Curiosity: Judgement of Momentary Relapsed - Sedation

I see one thing;
I see another.
Little for less I find myself to reason.
An angel must fly in a different
cast light of their-own-imagination.
The facing of my redemption not to be
handled inappropriately,
sombered then is sobriety.
Nothing that can tell me how
the dream has begun of not over.
Perhaps, when there was a time where only beasts
roamed the planet with only
their use of hands,
verbose in language too-crisp
for the tongue.
A unique character is crazy not to.
I will be better reminded.
In remembering it.
My meal-ticket out of my-heart in time
from the passion.
A burning sensation.
A fire of no pink flamed
excuses.
A desire for peanut-butter and raspberry jam
on toast.
Generosity will travel further, getting me
where I want to-go-far. (A need.)
So comical in relief.
The privilege of such memory
I indulge in it.
Worth my weight, here.
Worth my wait, there.

It was of no involuntary determined
unknown withdrawal.
Only there are parallels of ancient disguises.

All without the myth as an in between
in a heartbeat.

This to the - there's
mystery upon which I act upon.

With which there is mystery, of which,
I act upon entitlement.

To this: because there is mystery of entitlement
I act upon as anchor.

An entitlement as the anchor.
Upon which, I act.

The independence in thought
of some rarity in judgment but not irregular
as in fictional.

Do not be pathetic in your judgment.
Take the challenge in your passions.
Exhibit the change in pessimism
to the act of possession.

For the longest-time
I take a closer look
at something.

It is not for certain an unordinary
day as spectacular my display of hunger
in demonstrated-knowledge.

I shall recall of.
I can, be what it will whatever the subject-matter.
I honor the caveat - this my own conclave in which we've agreed.
Such rarity I conceal
my natured-well/good-judgment.

Taken in my palm-read hand.

My truth is worth a fortune-told
to me.

Recovered in belief of my own-doing.

The truth of my own-doing.

Much it is to act alike, in fact,
we are nothing.