STONEROY

Every phase we once had, persuing spout of dignity. Pathways springing out of the ground painted with green. Curses, uneven bricks, pins and needles may burn, although the gardens and the water is sprinting through. Forty five to eighty ages, the dead human strolling. Imagine chapters and the novels, drowning you in memoirs. The image of a library with their own five stages of life and those bodies of words, describing fear, hate and love spent during.

Organisation; e.g filing cabinets, they grow.

Organisation spouting in the same concept, although a lot less chapters, a lot less interest.

Humans being a lot more interesting than organisation, the most interesting matter on the planet.

Fuck, I'm good.