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Garden Path

Month: June 2017

The scarecrow does not move, knows all.

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Quality monad.

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I place my seashell on the banister.

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Understood.

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Motor anxiety.

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Reincarnates a psychopath.

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At one with sprawl.

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Like any tree that must get pruned of all of its bad knowledge every fucking hundred years, as insight emboldens, and as clarity sharpens into more accurate pictures of the truth, it follows that science is real––ly fucking stupid––to ever bet the farm on.

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