PersonaEnchanted mystery of myself and I - I breathe into personification,troubled only by the drawing whims ofself-arranged designation.My worries,my soul, my driven station -recognition, great ambition:Drawing hand, my many faces - boldly giving performance persona.
PicklePicklay Pickaloo Pickaloo PickledaliaFickle pickle had me sickle - I fear I've lost my own two nickles,What the heck, I'll just go fizzlewith shizzle with my soda's fizzing,fizzes over rad and drizzle likefried chicken hiz in a pickle, I think I needto get a salad. Yo out!
What if you had the Power to Uninstall a Life?Uninstalling… 99% A screen pops up. It announces – It’s not too late. Find your happiness, find your joy. You’re more than emptiness, more than sorrow. The girl-turned woman bound herself in glass cuffs– her body anguished by the bruises of her childhood – Don’t give up you still have time to reinstall. 70%... “Do you ever realize that maybe joy is just blunt obliviousness?” The woman asked. That doesn’t mean a thing. Don’t uninstall your life. You have too much to live for. 50%... Sweat haunts her body and sucked the memories from her core – she relives the moments of her parents’ collapse and the fall of arrogant societies – relives every moment of pain through her tears as they are swept into a long tube – Don’t cry. It says. If anyone