Classist calamity championed by the stable. The wild and free roam shopping malls with different intentions now, marking off tiny completions of the overarching story arc and nobody told me to get in line. Or continue in celebration because with each passing phase the sun sets once again after it has risen, or at least until it doesn't, anyway.
Interplanetary telephone game brought the Sun to its knees when the message was finally received. "You're a disappointment to us all." You're a disappointment, it's never been clearer, limbs spread wide for the whole worlds to see. How could I have ever let you all down when was never alive.
Click bait and switch. You're not like me, nor I like you, yet mutual feelings of despise between the two, too, through the groove of it all and we can work back to pinpoint the exact nature of the initial positions that brought us here and we'll soon after spin points of deposition never to be wrong and wronged again.
Push pull, it goes. Clearly you weren't supposed to hear the messiah speak to you today, but again, it goes. And so it goes, we really hope you trained that dog to stand instead of sit because war is the good word.
By focusing footprints left behind, defeat nosalgia by improving the past self to prepare the future self and maintain a natural and steady progression.