MAYBE I'M JOST MISTUNDERSOOD

Treeless flights of transferable wilderness will rove aboot in epidemia forever, with significant, spellbinding lizardy amongst the belligerent cees. 

It's disguised in lavender mist, lavender kissed in the eerie morn', for the easy, breezy negotiators of the 7th dimensional realm of being.

How deep and dreamy are the fungus laden peace pods a-waiting consumption by the Plutorian population who are unaware of the mysterious properties in the "pods," turning them yellow...ssslowwwly...blue...ssssllloooowly...imaginating ......things...soft...flexible...yellowssslowwwly...blue...ssssllloooowly...imaginating ...things...soft...flexible...yellow...ssslowwwly...blue...ssssllloooowly...imaginating ...things...soft...flexible...

Skyless transparent monkey paws hover above the cremational segment of the pure facilities, cleansed by faux fire ever so painstakingly, with arrested ambivalence and irreverence every Tuesday afternoon.

Being mistundersood is never, ever, ever a ripe banana, or kitty vomit, as everyone nose, It's just what it is, bro.