Me and Heartland Tree

I sit in this chair, and I feel completely less than zero. I am just tired, and little things are absurd. I hate talking about the less than zero subjects. My projects do invite the moon, but reply is zero. I still move and create every day. The usual realities come to be, and I chase the chaf and catch the grain. Heartland has been heartless to me. I am a nobody of mexican jumping bean corps. I guess that evil always wins, but I am still sober (33 months) and I move the body of rationalized thought along an academic and mystical meridian. Who knows if the crops will grow. Iowa was barely so last year. No tv covered it. When in the combine, stay away from anything mine. Brutal is the technique of target for satanists tree. Dune buggies were the release. Feel if you can see. Everybody does blame me. Crosses ablaze will be in his face. KKK sees the malady. It is the women in the tree. Discrete they are not. They can find anything hot. Leaving these dens of inequities, I frozed to death in the night. Warming up would not occur. I am now cool enough in the 100 degree heat. WV you make it hard to eat publically. I am not the flow of the klan. I have no promise to any man. Kin I stay in Antarctica far away. The waters flow and he does know. All across the land it is planned. I wait and see scared of my anatomy.