Meandering thoughts on a Mid-winter's Day:
Faith flight fire frivolity
Fluorescent flowing floorspace
Crack snapple creek end ebb
Warm wax waning wistfully wherever worlds wander.
Pickled onions stew strongly under elephantine ovaltine.
A boxer plays with stones.
Will Will's will will Will whatever Will will will? Read Red's red reed.
Quivering kiwis quail quietly in the quays while cowering Krauts consume cooled coloured cabbage.
Where goes sanity, and where goes reason? What is the path of insight, inspired conscious thought?
Can creation keep creativity creative, or will all things run the circuit of entropy? Is the universe doomed to equilibrium?
Fifty five fly flies fly flyly forward from forty flatulating frogs. Do frogs flatulate? What breaks wind better than a forest? Why is the sky pink nigh nighttime and patterned after diminishing returns? Is there any really real ROE?
Flexing flaccid muscle makes many manly men more mourning-mindful, mandating much meaty meals, mulling meagerly masticating molars.
Sip a little tea. Then take a little pea. Sit beside the sea and watch a tiny bee.
Fluid dynamics condemn your flight motion. Science is puzzled with you and emotion.
Fly away, fly away, fly away home. Lest the world's oddest wonders be someday full-known.
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