The enlightenment heightened my slighted psyche, she judges, it’s like the purveyor of our pain and purgatory is a catholic church, no better yet, an oratory. Yet we sit here calculating the masses of the masses of the classes of her asses, with masks seemingly tasked with extinction of the fittest, Darwin would be ‘proud’ of the efforts to create a hinged species from the broken pieces and feces of the deceased, souls of the disciples but what are we the students of? A jaded institution with ‘free’ freedom blotting out the sun, while we run freely in our cages as it’s all said and done. If school is ludus, then the ludicrous uterus is oppressing us with the claim that it’s a game. To get the truth and moreover proof of this sick spoof, you take the d and make it p, like BP spilling our blood like oil and using it to feed. Lupus, the physical augmentation of withheld temptation hesitation to sweep the nation of aggravation, there’s a code, but we don't know it and it’s not like there’s a necessity for Leonardo and his brevity, she’s the Wolf of Logos, yet has the gall to propose that we are the tormentors of our own design, but I resign to sign the time of the steep decline of the knowledge of myself. Like the stars aligned, and sent a signal to Ursa, but it was a major mistake, so Major Mistake took the take for the sake of those strafed and chafed by the rapidly unloosened noose of society. But the discipuli couldn’t see enough to bear the great Bear that was sent for them to gore them, but through one more attempt we can understand we have our hands in our own post mortem.