The thing is, doing mathematics cannot be apart from making love to a woman. Well, she make shout or moan if you make it well to her. But in the framework of things, it cannot be further from the truth. You need to know that every move should be carefully calculated on the right spots: she should feel the love and the essence of your affection. In other words, you cannot love her when fucking her. That is to say that this cannot be done out of the spirit of love.
That is to say that she may resent you if she does not get the satisfaction. Even so, this cannot get any idea for what it means to love for a woman. Even so, this cannot shock the average individual for what he was looking at: a whole new universe thanks to his new renewal. That is to say that he was in the middle between the Garagor empire and the continent of the Death empire. The thing is, he would look at every tree in the mortal sound of things.
This was the tree of death where many things would happen as it were some kind of haunted dream. The thing is, monsters and creature at ascended level would be here. That means that this was a dangerous zone for every citizen who wanted to go from the Garagor empire to the Death empire. That is to say that many cannot go unnoticed from any kind of view that we cannot have. Even so, for Basil, this was perhaps the need to feel his sadness.
As for the smiling red trees, they were ancient beings that lived for 5000 years. They smelled everything from miles, feeding the forest as if it were alive. The more you could change it, the more you can add this to new feeling of being alive. In this framework of life, this did not seem to go away from what he could actually see in the yearning of what we can actually shake in the life of what it means to be dead. Personally, this could shake the core of Basil, but as not personally, this could take his mind to be vague in the sublime at the gaze of the light of the moon.
Basil: The moon looks at me, but I still see a woman instead of a man. Hahaha! The germans would look at this as if it were a man. The thing is, they did not know how beautiful it could get. Anyway, this cannot go any far in the function of things. Don't tell me the moon is shining; show me the glint of light on broken glass.
That is to say that we can see the soul of everything in nothing. Moonlight drowns out all but the brightest stars within the eyes of the universe and yet I am like the bright moon, we still have our darker side that tells me that I should be as eternal as what could be done in the most hostile of ways. O my sorrow so big or so loud that can shake my being for I am a cemetery by the moon unblessed in the infinity of my love for my good mother. Even so, it is not be directed towards me. I REALLY FEEL THAT THIS TREE BELONGS to me. Anyway, I shall see what these beasts want from me by singing this poem: Each day is born with a sunrise
and ends in a sunset, the same way we
open our eyes to see the light,
and close them to hear the dark.
Deathly Melody for My Muse
Oh, my legendary warrior of death,
I'd surrender every ounce of celestial gold
At thy feet—just for the chance
To see thy eyes meet mine and, in that fatal glance,
Miserably be undone.
Thy voice, tender yet murderous as the haunting strains
Of maremaids in midnight seas,
Drives me to madness, as though in the rapture
Of thy blissful gaze, my existence is a trifle—
A treasure taken for granted by fate itself.
Oh, my heavenly muse of swords,
Draw me into the sweet bosom of thy universal embrace,
Granting me one last, piercing glimpse
Before the final nightfall.
Thy body, as lavalike and flamelike as the heart of fire,
Consumes my hope in torrents of immeasurable pain,
Sinking me deep into the abyss of despair.
And have I lost thee forevermore?
Hast thou, O fair one, from me flown?
Yet still, in mine ear resounds as of yore
Every whispered word, every tender tone.
As when, at dawn, the wanderer's eye
Strives in vain to pierce the veiled air,
And high in the azure sky, a lark
Sings its strain—so do I cast my troubled gaze
Through brambled woods, across the wistful lea;
Invoked in every one of my lays,
I call: return, my love, and come back unto me.
For that, you have no control over
how your story begins or ends.
But by now, you should know that
all things have an ending.
Every spark returns to darkness.
Every sound returns to silence.
And every flower returns to sleep
with the earth.
The journey of the sun
and moon is predictable.
But yours like a summer day.
Au fond de mon cœur en solitude,
Où demeure, à jamais, son inestimable écho,
Vivant, en décrépitude, repose ce secret douloureux,
Réveillé seulement quand tu t'abandonnes au sommeil.
Mon âme, en écho silencieux,
Palpite pour moi
Comme une déesse de tristesse.
Basil got closer to every tree of the forest of death. The more he would sing, the more they would feel pleased. That is to say that these trees cannot go shake the ultimate chant of life. And also, this event triggered one of the most powerful beasts in the alternate universe of the endless framework of unity. The thing is, this dragon was an origin black dragon created by Ignorance. That is to say that he would kill anyone from the bloodline of logos. In other words, ll things are in flux; the flux is subject to a unifying measure or rational principle. Not like anyone may actually think, but like one gets lost after comprehending this principle (logos, the hidden harmony behind all change) bound opposites together in a unified tension, which is like that of a lyre of the one who loves the truth, where a stable harmonious sound emerges from the tension of the opposing forces that arise from the bow bound together by the string.
Esrras: HELL NO! I AM NOT TAKING THIS SHIT! How is someone from that bloodline still alive. Ignorance had told me that we had wiped out that clan. Yes, I can feel it. In their DNA, We must live in stories. It must be a path we walk, part of the glue that holds us together. Individuals must unite themselves to a body well-formed in love so that we grow up into the logos himself, who is the head. Without that extra step, we will ultimately be dispersed like smoke like wax before the fire/ %^&$#$%^&^%$ LOGOS, EULER%^%#, IDENTITY, Gnosis, Spiral, Nihil est sine ratione, 01010101001010101101010110100101101001010101101011010101001010101010110101010101011010101010101001101011010101001010010101001010100101010101010101010010101010101001 ERROR…. ERROR….ERROR not enough ability to detect He34334o99300100110010101.
As he saw this, he started to realize that this was not just a shame for the ones who could actually shake the initial tendencies of life. The chant of a flower. The chant of love. The cant of death. The thing is, this could actually touch his dark heart: he was not like those ones who would desire love. When I say it's you I like, I'm talking about that part of you that knows that life is far more than anything you can ever see or hear or touch. That deep part of you that allows you to stand for those things without which humankind cannot survive. Love that conquers hate, peace that rises triumphant over war, and justice that proves more powerful than greed. The thing is, he would not have this. On the opposite, he would hang it as if he hated women and everything that it means to be with one woman. Take things this ways. He would never imagine himself being with a woman.
Esrras: HAHAH! THIS pussylike being will pay for this. I'm a rude dude, but I'm the real deal. Lean and mean! Cocked, locked and ready-to-rock. Rough, tough and hard to bluff. I take it slow, I go with the flow, I ride with the tide. I've got glide in my stride. Drivin and movin, sailin and spinin, jiving and groovin, wailin and winnin. I don't snooze, so I don't lose. I keep the pedal to the metal and the rubber on the road. I party hearty and lunch time is crunch time. I'm hangin in, there ain't no doubt and I'm hangin tough, over and out!