Narrative Based on What Would I Say App

Intro

When I recently posted some pieces of text generated by what would I say, I felt an urge to order them in a loosely narrative way. I’m making this the explicit aim of this post; I’m placing the original chunks of generated text back-to-back, without editing anything. These things I have written on facebook over the past five or so years, have been wrenched out of their contexts and shuffled, only for me to attempt to reorder them.

Text

In 2005 in London. Frost, fog, forest, fields, autumnal leaves. I’m quite sure I returned from my darling friend Alex. It might be a pretty small venue so we walked down Paying full price as I couldn’t stay. Couldn’t loath my darling friend in Etonian drawl Yes, that’s what I’ve been programming this To be individually solid as rock. ‘it is our summer? Back pain and genealogy…

just woke up a castle whilst pissed given to drift into a paraphilia where sexual arousal is good Time to see you  Slept through you, just like your breath As for the innocence of youth; how I can’t get you oh, of makeup, and from childhood, through a neverending tunnel of you! .I’m waitin’ for flesh And real blood I’ll watch you Likely to draw such sublimity, hence Sonorous erection. The sad thing was innocence, turned on my life, but take time I know that What she said, was sad, but after that ‘Her skirt ascends for nothing’

This is very embarrassing way to see it, besides developing a new face. I’d like a desire to cleanse me Wish I’d feel humiliated if I enjoy it though.

I look for work with detachable limbs It’s from an outspoken advocate of eugenics. This is the yobbo occidentalis, generally accepted view nowadays. Oh, it depends on the receiving end, right? His death for a vindaloo But I can type quickly and it sustains him. Typing with my better studied by trained natural scientists, and finish my degree. We’re going to distract the peasants from the middle east. Fret not for me, I’m afraid. 24 hours or another hacker community seems clear to pin the foul taste of horse shit. Darling, don’t look so retardedly happy whateveritwas, I just purchased a kind of oppression. All the shower Pushing my wandering fancy and conspicuous consumption isn’t vulgar enough.

Productivity has dropped since returning to raise you Whenever I decide it would not I look like a dog round your behest. Couriers will have to contract HIV I’m sometimes shocked by human stupidity. I’m quite conventional really vivid, I had help from time to involve performance and scholarly halls of wine. Hopefully my dissertation won’t end up to be displaying the absurd thing was offered opportunities for procrastination. Reminds me You can run the course

It’s from an unsigned Nottingham band to Justin Bieber. They’ll take 25 second to do hear a week?

Terrorism is playing with a gaping hole in my Eyes My better judgement said they had none If that were the case, as friction relies on our experience of oppression… That is disturbing, and demands the blackest thoughts

just woke up fully; I’m aiming to cut yes’s throat and never its mum in order to take that Brisk, invigorating walk up and it is the application of makeup, and alliteration Alas, my craft’s not Walking in a wallsocket’ Less importantly, I think there is always steeped in social behaviour and that is unreservedly thankful for an invasion of memories. This Hash,masculine,saliva a painting half hours of a drag outfit. Here are hate, jealousy, hurry, and indifference frothed into them, and masculinity now. Roll on one of the dominant order. I view these chaps Staring out of future taxpayers like so many football fans in the way we are, with dreadful dancing on this Soon you will drown in the foul taste of the phalanx of phalocentricity. It might be outdated or ideologically biased. a custom whereby a man Come back to moo milk. Give me something better than patriarchy or don’t get me

Your point is cogent, compelling even, but the deeds of a few months. and the whole affair,the apparent attempt almost to pin the tragedy on my brazen, bawdy, tawdry bed Nothing more ‘Don’t you make a theory of my mental hygiene I’m all out

Got my life, but take it, it’s quite old.

Nah, I’m breaking to pieces, i’ll toss a lower melting point I dwell in the English language.

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