Recuperation
The first taste of Sunway Aesculapian is the product of the insalubrious refection that ails health. The momentary elope from the brouhaha has been refreshing and efficacious in taming the contumacious monster that is struggling to eschew the cage. Apart from discerning the apparatchik kidney kowtowing to czar, the sudden revelation, the crumbling of the supposed vintage year resplendent of justice is replaced by the sweetheart mechanism that is strewn across the whole dimension like the darkness that encapsulates the universe, is pretty demoralizing. The convalescent itinerary is unappetizing encompassing the abstemious diet and the bed confinement. The ominous lightning that reverberates across the heaven is compelling me to overdose medication.
One can always distinguish the tutelage born from the interest as well as the compelling momentum. The repressive entourage, characterized by the fractious tone maiming at everyone's self-belief and yet demands complete regurgitation, is risible. Using the vox populi of encouraging independence as the Aegis to elude any weight is a disgrace for such virtuoso. The act of obfuscating the shameless pastime nonetheless placards the devolution of the sacrosanct principle into the twisted amalgamation of self-hate and social reliance. The Cockaigne for eclaircissement emphasizes the mutual exchange and certainly not the imbalance that promotes the licentious figure. Perhaps the extreme enforcement of noblesse obligate might do the trick. The umbrella does not shelter this collusion of the fractious exhibition of emotion but again does this bumbershoot still exists in current flux? Has it become the esoteric stereotyped head and shoulders above the true preaching? Is this a sign for me to be on the qui vive in the future? Like my mother does for me all the time.
The stagnant growth is insipid and insidious. The nonchalant regime welcomes the everchanging evolution but mine otherwise. The organic arrangement twirling with high risk high return basis is aleatoric but the outcome is downright placid and copacetic to the nadir. A parable to the treadmill life. Maybe I should walk under mistletoe.
Healing,
Silent Gazer.
One can always distinguish the tutelage born from the interest as well as the compelling momentum. The repressive entourage, characterized by the fractious tone maiming at everyone's self-belief and yet demands complete regurgitation, is risible. Using the vox populi of encouraging independence as the Aegis to elude any weight is a disgrace for such virtuoso. The act of obfuscating the shameless pastime nonetheless placards the devolution of the sacrosanct principle into the twisted amalgamation of self-hate and social reliance. The Cockaigne for eclaircissement emphasizes the mutual exchange and certainly not the imbalance that promotes the licentious figure. Perhaps the extreme enforcement of noblesse obligate might do the trick. The umbrella does not shelter this collusion of the fractious exhibition of emotion but again does this bumbershoot still exists in current flux? Has it become the esoteric stereotyped head and shoulders above the true preaching? Is this a sign for me to be on the qui vive in the future? Like my mother does for me all the time.
The stagnant growth is insipid and insidious. The nonchalant regime welcomes the everchanging evolution but mine otherwise. The organic arrangement twirling with high risk high return basis is aleatoric but the outcome is downright placid and copacetic to the nadir. A parable to the treadmill life. Maybe I should walk under mistletoe.
Healing,
Silent Gazer.
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