Jut got beat up by you in my nose, at the peak of it's crest. Give it to me again so I can react fast enough. Knock your lights out is what I oughtta ...The Ludite in me is still biting on my ass , as if I didn't know a chunk of my words were just swallowed by this whore computer, showing what it wants to and obliterating the one reality I run on. The spelling check, on my back , following my every word, measuring every length, a little dictator of modified expression, not aiming to destroy, ....all the time, but actually becoming constructive and somewhat following a thread.

If now Armageddon wants to exist somewhere and spread all over, It would not be able to take away this words, NOT this time, They have been  SAVED , they have a guarantee of being. There is a space in this fart fast of a time in which this spurt message has been thrown out to be collected. Just a little fight of terrain , always non existent , with a convincing source.