PW: Treasure More Gravel

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Currently: the amount of stones you bear does not venerate the satiation of your meticulously high-placed ideal. You maintain: more rocks, and more rocks rather exclusively if you are confined to this temporal plane, are the only paraphernalia that will lend you a sanguine attitude. It is this alone that will lend you keys towards the objective of avoiding your melancholies; it is somewhat ironic that the source exuding sunniness proceeds in its emanation in a place far detached from you.

Nonetheless: no qualms were sufficient to supress your plugging down towards the floor. Within seconds, then, you find yourself bent double, scratching about the floor to apprehend more stippled amalgams of grey. You treasure a particularly unorthodox stone that appears in sienna; it is not similar to any other. The rest appear fairly generic, which you induce based on your current examples which have since a time been stored within your hand.

You ponder whether it is a good inkling to apprehend a similar set of gravels, or whether you could find sun within the new gravel pertaining a luculent tone.


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, shaprness, lustre"

Circular Reasoning "Logically Sound"
Profoundness "Nil"


Do you:

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