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Sometimes it feels like life imitates film or that film imitates life...
Blue romantic tragic. Farris wheel magic. Managed a thumbs up. A numb tongue sung of crushed heart strung along in well framed shots. Is she a weapon? That lacks life and how some saints are tainted before the growth. As the same face, soaked in rain, claims “knives are keys to a heaven made of paint.” Every kiss sires screams in out of focus. See our princess get kidnapped for vacation fucking the captor dressed as distressed. Zoom out and see a white girls dainty hands holding hearts teaching Blind Sides. Its that “Can’t Hardly Wait” ‘til Barry buries kismet science into the wings of the girl next door waving back smiling. Oh, how our cherub grew into a harpy and landed sun dancing saying “our quirky lead’s a lemming lamenting the edge of a jerky planet.” Then you wake up, guitar solo reaching, speech longing yet cupid slanted. Audience Award! Stress handed in a wordy frantic garners no laugh sans popcorn. Lost cause found in wiggly, straight letter thought form. Teen pregnancy is cute when covered in thrift, tragic further blackened. Eclectic gathering of a pretty party frozen in the adaptation. Sniff that pollen off that titty! Its a middletown kitschy. Inner city broom jumpers get soup cooler shuns as brown loves finds Oscar riddles. Widdle down the valentine in half the time the credits take. Breakout Artist Award goes to he who can hold the straight face the longest. Opened like the exit of unexciting husband. Fade to rock song. Firework curtain period piece that fits every fuck up but what great pictures they took not long after the chase drained away with ease leaving a mosaic of confused youth.
I’ve got a life like movie. Like life. I got a movie life. Life like movie. Like life, I got a movie life. Life like movie. Like life, I got a movie life. Life life movie. Like life like life! x2
I am really am a star! That’s just the Neo Future setting, filtered SLR wedding. Definition caught the cracked smile. You’re missing the point! Are you implying that I am not fighting Goliath? Waiting tables. Waiting my turn monologue my way to Denzel Washington status. Atlas. Keep that dress away from me! I’m Fred Wil patiently. I’ll indie my way to stardom. Zulu chief. Maybe a junkie in Harlem. Not become an Art-house-martyr-Soap-Opera-extra-Gospel-theatre-understudy.
The worlds at half speed as you move through viscus air prepared to save the day, at most, i impaired by nerves until tears drop. Slow motion clap. Head nod of approval. Fears stop with trumpet triumph. Up goes our heroes home-run. They came because you built it... to euthanize the villain. “Get ‘em Craig!” Them lead legs are just a feeling before swiftness leads to fights in trees with dynamic speech. Lift everyone out their seats with a tackle. This time, their not laughing at you.Cracking the teeth reality bites with. A slight twist from beating Bishop. A knights kiss for wifing the princess. Parisian time warp mistress. Jason’s lyric whispered in her ear as she defends. Shame, it was first sight. Ignore the wrenching in your stomach your number 4. Fight off the wolves and hollow moments. Never acts question you don’t want answered. More, just don’t ask questions. Just say the right wrong thing as if it was chosen. The montage of laurel wreaths dance together molding stars out of convenience only wished upon to humble or validate some type of genius. Let all sex have steady cam artistry and heart break silent archery.