Staff No. 645535/4256
my mother spoke much of the golden grain spare, before she disappeared (one says). never I got to hear her slur, this replete crashing roll. grants a respite for everybody hum my eye balls, draws himself and flies there: who doesn't see doesn't want to see. people put pixels over each other billion foldly -- we never forget this. I take seriously this thing very much (one says).
Present position: General Watcher
Translated by linguatec
:: thank you. read. ::