nicko9y3

.Forever terrible blank splatholes disturb bonecheeks in the void, while the loud bulges of explosion begin everything. Why, is there crumbling? Is it certain? Is it flaking, falling rotting, asphyxiating, choking on its curiosity and indifference? Resisting scrutiny. Reflecting inquiry and concern, feeling everything, forever thinking Crean Borthy. Wet, wet consumption gnawing, kneading disgustingly, through the small bone pestles. Lubricious gluttony sliding steadily into the filthy blood and mossbag of nutrition, pushing out the shit into mother nature. Every particle, every atom balancing matter into itself, trying to balance better tha