here will be free Wi-fi in Shey Phoksundo - Nepal's natural wealth was capitalized, lately a sous vide, often torrential in mineral luminality. Cinema caritas could be impunity. We read in a recharged manner while the rumbling magma of decimal doctrines forgive the century its fast forward ways. The walk is the way. Falling leaves are not fallen grace. The feasibility of perfected dimensionality, such as a skylark in Gorkha, remunerates tired and tallied mindscapes. A study of species advanced in unfurled discourse but, poetically, rooted for the minted rather than the mint. Suppers are sustenance. Dawn is deuteronomic. The soma of dearth and drudgery is a Darth Vader response to the sybarite, earthenware, world water day. Jacobean dramatis hash-tagged the campaigns - #niptuck4good. Gudrun would be happy today.
The Nepal perspective is a lens, a soliloquy for Eden, the dual sim of ergonomics. Egoism, sexism and class war were trite parentheses here. Now, they are Dr. Who's phantom of the opera. Whipping night flights do not dither. The Warsaw Pact was mistaken for the documentarian's graphic design - l'objet est d'art. Venal sin is in the discussion form. Mighty opposition is the Achilleas shield - Aeolus will heal, Teiresias must write, Dido is aging. The drag and drop of self-published trivium was an encounter, countered by experimental communiqué. Framed, filigreed tribal war did not win, wither nor waste the moment. I reasoned with the hair clip - to style or not to style, that is version control. Figurines of deism refreshed the senses but they cried over spilt milk and my dairymaid years are over. Shylock is overrated. The gunslinger moratorium has won a new artistic license. There should have been perfumes too.
Rhetoric's device savvy characters are trending. Persuasion in leadership would relieve the comrade from socio-voluntourism, his Tartan ingenue, a tuppence of toasted coffee. The pittance of the modern aeon is tried, tested, untrue. I am a spiritual refugee in circumference, a climate change circumstantial, a structural reform denial.
The day is a semblance. In nature's surroundings, the ecosystem finds turnkey cosmos and rises to occasionals. Shiny metallurgy was once the trick and treat. We were haphazard, handed over, horizonal. The stone deity was a sudden theology. There were heretics, horses, hindered heliotropes. A Starbucks coup is most vernacular. Resemblances have taken on myriad mythologies but the Zionist did not find a meaningful pitch. To see is, also, to witness, to exculpate, to desist. A revolt tossed terror into perspective, alliance and a Caesar salad of bounty. Life's little melodies show grand promise, exercise chequer board status and upliftment.
Discrimination is infringement on gleaming shanks but deluded grandeur will arise, out of the ashes and into the teak hollows. The Pre-Raphaelite paint job of précis and precipice Weimarism will decide, deriving power in people and progress. Thus it has been said. Thus we have reversed fortune's Fabian decline. Thus there is equipoise. The rearrangement of co-designed, carousel-led socialization was mistaken for Guevara's Socialism but Cuban cigars do not sit well here. Fauvism is winning, while the finish line lay in the null void. Decathlon imagery is viscous, under knowledgeable trees, in the nascence of revolution. The mind is over matter. It is moving along. Matter was just made that way. Invincibility was understood and applied as invisibility.
The Third Eye was a real and imagined socio-economic salute, the fiery cannon of hyper-local protocol. Beauty has beholden, too, distilled, designated. The tactile was given its due mobile accreditation. The ameliorated, perforated, Sushi-plattered work of daily life, resoundingly, will resume, therein assuming that there is walled hope. Continuity remembers and the long journeys of day and night are in the correct premise, the scouted trail, an unparalleled universal. Unchanged, the eternal is a waterfall of mantras - the lively essence of misrepresented sententia. The predicated act, action and activity, presently a mortgaged mast, that swept the post-Hotspur, post-Falstaff society of symptoms we call the universe was found to be untenably dark web, Stygian, the systematics of ignorance. Bliss, on the other hand, is listening to a podcast on Nepali #socent. Bold strides of advancement and vetted success stories have started the work of lifting people up as if on a duvet of precious metals.
A Siamese cat is a joy forever. I played an Aria by Pergolesi - atonal sounds spake but I am in forte. The hill nearby is my distanced audience. The electronic piano is rented. The music sheet could not have been more easternized. As I understand it today, morendo is a good word. Scatological innuendo aside, I can feel the hysteria of Classicism. I can read music. The time signature was an arduous battle of memory but a man of letters once quipped that we should play it by ear. The exact timing of my practice hours brims with lyrical light - one might surmise that this is it. I have performed, paraglided, eked out a living standard. Quality is ice cream, too. The clansmanship, implicit in the music score, takes culture into the new realm. The drumbeats are a camaraderie. The aria, itself, could be for the maiden voyage called reparation. Repatriation has, also, come by and, so too, the red planter. Is it a hit? Tacit, funded, undulating, the Nepal interest will mend broken fences, fence with infographics, teach perseverance. Every God has his day too. Kulturel politik is my friend. Supine legumes arrive at the door. The wooded window, often derelict, is just fur elisé hereon.
The holos (Greek for whole) is contentious and careworn. Demi-gods are not a novelty affect in popular policy arenas. Arms and anger decry every trivialized conclave as dinner and dance. Mesopotamia is as much an anachronistic expletive as it is a history of the world. The gendarme of heightened insecurity needed a dishwasher. The axis is quite bedeviled. Mohenjo Daro could be the next lifestyled, 3-d printed, travelled destination. Ancient granaries have replaced Grandma's heartwarming recipe. Mine eyes! Allegiance is now thrown to the status algorithm we know as an automobile. I do not wear jacquard nor jaguar prints. My pet project is learning - the languages of the world exhume bad development, bad bananas. We work around the city's provisions. All in all, the event management years have surpassed every known literary movement as real, actual, impossible - there were dead words at the masquerade too.
