The mesmeric potentials of diatonic fog: can you (or will you) hear and absorb a soft ringing? It could seem to engage a forlorn cleft to a shape-lifting effort at periodic bontule episodes. Or, alternatively, a nascent escape, as foretold in the Book of Jim, is winnowed through a piecemeal treatment of partial blackout events. If I've read about this while making my way through a ferment of lulls (not lulz), then the false identity I've assumed since my faked birth is just one more blank factor to consider while bearably stunned bishop trainees assume a position marked by the stolid antoplexy of faded distaff shirts.
If the remaining petals exhibit a fluming and our method is of a piece with one of all putative non-traditional folk magic remedies, then it falls to the few who insist on coughing in an abandonded breezeway to engage the striped vessel in a word-power matrix designed to avoid ever vaster non-selection pressures. This will be your cue to cut a bold shape across decades of winsome dross and fluffy imitation numerals.
Why have our last and best companions in the Crime of Groans appropriated success strategies from the child-free bastions of negative luck bargains? While you grab for an answer (any answer!) please allow the implications of any lazy reply to sink in deeply and aid you in applying the dreaded master-flip to the ghost narratives you refuse to interrogate. It may just go part of the way to sealing your deepest ceiling with a waxy raiment the color of oil-flavored goo. And this will be called 'success', try as we might to wish it were not so.
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