PW: Overcome This Axe To Your Finest Respite

From Create Your Own Story

A clock ticks in your head, the spikes make your fate look temporal. They assimilate piercing jabs that stare into your eyes without moving; further approaching them does not only this ethereal experience, but creates the impression that the astral javelins is being lodged further into your gaze.

On the wind rides a subtle aqua; without this to relieve you of your certainty it would be set on some sort of enervating danger. The moist droplets build wintry templates in your eyes, which cools you down in not only the plane you inhabit now but the plane that scrolls an internal transcript of the surface. In a matter of seconds you do feel fairly relieved and can approach these sickles.

You care for your safety as it is diffused into the splinters that lie so close towards you; they are like the teeth of some Mesolithic animal, and that you are the person unfortunate enough to be the bait to satiate it. Many parts of you hope that this is a false and linguistic prophecy, transcripts by un-intuitive liars.

This story shall be proven fallible, here and now; the prize of falsehood awaits only the climbing of these rocks.


Status
Circumstances "Saturated, lucid" Paraphernalia:

"Satchel"

Concepts:

"Cogency, cliff, moor, ocean, aquatic, land, stones, respiration, movement, literacy, English, consumption, appetite, young, danger, threat, will, space, inertia, fallibility, retraction"

Circular Reasoning "Logically Sound"
Profoundness "Nil"


Do you:

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