After Watching The Iron Men
It starts with the assurance that you can/know know/_ everything.
When you learn the torrid taunt of the assumed gets you hanging, all you can know is there: a grant.
Each thing composed turns you out, a thing you make sense with is a failed past. You desire beasts. You get.
For example you find yourself wanting to learn how to write movie reviews and you realize the basics is to get the details from IMDB and then keyword it up, make sense of its SEO, China, Honduras tragedies. Its pain!
Then you know that everything can be known you guess but then you move on and what is the point of the game when you don't think it's for the winning and then you suddenly think oh my god the intention is to muck, bland, mystify, be an arty, disguise your inuncanninity, portend the sorrows of a brooding fellow.
Longfellow is an author.
Then you intend to rumble it up, syntax it different, make sure you are unintelligible and you give justice to jargon and then the files went missing. Whoever got it, Aliens of concern? When you rode the bike you actually met my father who killed your father. I was raped by the priest's rapist. You failed to count the only one who matters in the queue, in the list, in the roll call. The counters are never counted.
When you learn the torrid taunt of the assumed gets you hanging, all you can know is there: a grant.
Each thing composed turns you out, a thing you make sense with is a failed past. You desire beasts. You get.
For example you find yourself wanting to learn how to write movie reviews and you realize the basics is to get the details from IMDB and then keyword it up, make sense of its SEO, China, Honduras tragedies. Its pain!
Then you know that everything can be known you guess but then you move on and what is the point of the game when you don't think it's for the winning and then you suddenly think oh my god the intention is to muck, bland, mystify, be an arty, disguise your inuncanninity, portend the sorrows of a brooding fellow.
Longfellow is an author.
Then you intend to rumble it up, syntax it different, make sure you are unintelligible and you give justice to jargon and then the files went missing. Whoever got it, Aliens of concern? When you rode the bike you actually met my father who killed your father. I was raped by the priest's rapist. You failed to count the only one who matters in the queue, in the list, in the roll call. The counters are never counted.
Labels: David Foster Wallace, Iron Man 3
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