mental musings of a mass murderer in my own mind, metamorphing into mega musical minstrel singing with merging meanings of mystical melodies... vibologistical procreativity, for short
when one door closes, another yawns wide... with the death of the circle, we re-enter the ring, ready to swing on uncommon sense, the masses needing glasses and the spiritual astigmatism that leaves society blindsided and squinting in the glow of the ultimate sun. a cult in its birth throes, a philosophy of the ages, vibologism concentrate, just add watt, er, i mean water...
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