i was a stranger in a town.

it's the study of the human society. critically thinking the pure imagination between interaction. analyzing the poor, rich, ineffective, and very productive. how else should one just remember the yesterdays? are we always prone to interact ignoring the time as lazy as saturdays? she'll hum silently dashing for shoulder to shoulder should she should her. there's constantly more to this. constantly just in store the wondering miss. she shouldn't have stayed the protect and to behave. what else was there more to understand about meddling across the floor. to the second story achievement like the depth enough commitment. for there will be tall glasses of lemonade and milk that will last a year. the eyes lit up like the backside of a rear view crash. interacting is great satisfaction when the girl is procrastinating the boys polluted waiting. she sips here way up the crowd and down the lungs to turn into sound. just plain sound. not a plane sound. but the simple monotone touch to a resonance tick of excitement. the scarcity of fulfillment turns the smell of burning an excitement. they're bored. fuck the high life. i want it now.