NovelNovelist
Obsession Pervert
"The integalactic. They are spawning, at fast rates. Beyond human destination that could have been reached."
That was what the moron said today, with a peculiar tone of voice; however it did not sound sane in the slightest.
I esconsced on the green, ticklish and meandering earth on the mountain, unconcerned by the malevolent conceptions forming on my internal dominion so to speak. And that which was an ephemeral experience. The signs leading to the city's strongholds were laconic in meaning, for not enough information to decode the base purpose of why they were in such a peaceful place such as this. The wind prolifically rustled and whispered across the ancient river of Euphrates. I had to stand up and there I saw a waterfall. A decayed one at best, it only was dripping infrequently small drops of water. The fall of nature's many beauties. Yet this was just the incipient of what was about to happen.
The chirping of the birds nearby was mellifluous. A symphonic orchestra across the forest.
After doing so I heard the yawn of the afromentioned moron. He let out with a sigh, the first sentence in this prose. It wasn't a verisimilitude truth, I knew that with full certainty.
This moron, as the legend goes and as I was taught by my father, was once an astoundingly wise scholar in his dominion, lending his knowledge to the next generation. For he had a background of success in his infancy years.
A gifted soul among the rest. Diligently writing work after work in his now haunted manor. Yet his keen eye would soon be a curse, a fate worse than death. As he began digging up some ancient artefact. With his knowledge, he deciphered the accursed spell at front the vase. And his mind suffered a tumultuous demise as it was heard from all kingdoms in the three continents. Hence his name, The Moron of The Third Space.
And this is what brings me here in this resting place of an oasis. His quiet soul guarding over the centre of this location. Yet I couldn't wait no longer. I read a few chapters of the peculiarly interesting volume. Which is what I believe to be the forbidden inscriptions, with the clearly ethereal template the volume's cover was.
Adumbrated symbols, yet something ambrosial whispered in my mind; I had been fooled. My mind was more obsequious than usual; and forcefully I had to accept the circumstances. I moaned and serendipitously found myself going mad.
"Madness recurring
Forever journeying
Looking forward
Oh, so much work, why did I
Go mad in the first place?"
That was what the moron said today, with a peculiar tone of voice; however it did not sound sane in the slightest.
I esconsced on the green, ticklish and meandering earth on the mountain, unconcerned by the malevolent conceptions forming on my internal dominion so to speak. And that which was an ephemeral experience. The signs leading to the city's strongholds were laconic in meaning, for not enough information to decode the base purpose of why they were in such a peaceful place such as this. The wind prolifically rustled and whispered across the ancient river of Euphrates. I had to stand up and there I saw a waterfall. A decayed one at best, it only was dripping infrequently small drops of water. The fall of nature's many beauties. Yet this was just the incipient of what was about to happen.
The chirping of the birds nearby was mellifluous. A symphonic orchestra across the forest.
After doing so I heard the yawn of the afromentioned moron. He let out with a sigh, the first sentence in this prose. It wasn't a verisimilitude truth, I knew that with full certainty.
This moron, as the legend goes and as I was taught by my father, was once an astoundingly wise scholar in his dominion, lending his knowledge to the next generation. For he had a background of success in his infancy years.
A gifted soul among the rest. Diligently writing work after work in his now haunted manor. Yet his keen eye would soon be a curse, a fate worse than death. As he began digging up some ancient artefact. With his knowledge, he deciphered the accursed spell at front the vase. And his mind suffered a tumultuous demise as it was heard from all kingdoms in the three continents. Hence his name, The Moron of The Third Space.
And this is what brings me here in this resting place of an oasis. His quiet soul guarding over the centre of this location. Yet I couldn't wait no longer. I read a few chapters of the peculiarly interesting volume. Which is what I believe to be the forbidden inscriptions, with the clearly ethereal template the volume's cover was.
Adumbrated symbols, yet something ambrosial whispered in my mind; I had been fooled. My mind was more obsequious than usual; and forcefully I had to accept the circumstances. I moaned and serendipitously found myself going mad.
"Madness recurring
Forever journeying
Looking forward
Oh, so much work, why did I
Go mad in the first place?"
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