Hark then, take offhand note, an imaginative artist is released from prison, immediately resuming the stress thereafter which initially led to his foul distemper.
Thus, with no income at hand and no commission retroactively forthcoming, a theoretical deal which may have merit seductively swelters in sordid cynosure.
Strange how someone so sought after just wildly wanders half-starved and disputative, you would think there'd be some kind of role for him to adequately play with solemn disinterest?
But wandering salubriously suits him with soliloquized synergies short and syncopated, the odd connoisseur taking distracted note, random deals struck fugaciously unaltered.
Inspiration indeed surely struts and mischievously materializes maelström and mayhem, as it does within The Horse's Mouth when idyllic lustre illustriously liaises.
Indubitably, a frenzied subaltern is even enlisted with aggrieved bravado, the lack of orthodox laborious blueprints producing reluctant starstruck nebulae.
No doubt encouraging flagrant entropy resiliently mutating into adamant verse.
At times some things go amiss.
Textiles tantamount cantankered probity.
You wonder where he's headed in the auspicious final moments, imagine having a boat fortuitously buoyant and inquisitively seafaring.
I suppose if you can catch your dinner with moderate success there's no horizon, puzzling predicaments at times bemoaning yet still loose and lithe and limber.
With abundant material work may flourish beyond reckless trope and placated gale, regenerative lapse demonstrative brine lopsided latitude elegant shades.
Romance wasn't once so dangerous although tremulous realism distorts as well, without hope how do you ever achieve assuming a hearty practical frailty?
Sometimes things relax and tactile comforts efficiently abound.
Soak it in, time for a breather.
It may even last.
'About on the seas.
*Essential viewing for Alec Guinness fans. It's like Obi-Wan Kenobi if he'd never had Jedi training.
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