Pitter patter and the brain words

Do you know, do you know?

The mountains are peaks in blurred up dreams. Blue and peach yellow make no colour when close.
The ‘Bloc party’ gave me a musical pillow!
Since I despatched their promos.
Muddy puddles of Glaxo Klein pudding, made to mourn and made to render. Someone must pick up The Rudy umbrella, lying head bent inside this karela (Bitter gourd)
I was just brain writing. Writing directly from the brain with minimal editing.
Knight, pettered soul
I know not what that word means. I felt like calling you that. Like that ‘Petter Petter’ *sound of rain and the lightness of. a feather when she wings herself into a fervent storm.
A friend’s grandma died and she said to me
the clichéd lines of ants walking on midget spheres ground.

‘Life’s too short, Nothing ventured nothing gained.’

No, I’m not high. I had maggi and soup.

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