I'm glad you like the mix and mixes. And i wish you the best too sonoftheflow. be good out there.

mmmm. it is so fine though. i think i'll just type slow.

desire does burn. like a snake swallowing a tail afire. rattles that shake as they immolate, drawing toward a yawning fate which is a human body to lie down and drink the bliss the ignorant fuel, are you respiring this foolhardiness and transfiguring oxygen for bliss. how spectacular is this. its ... automatic. i mean autonomous. i mean i get nervous.
heart palpitations because a creature of habits eyes aglow, and my hands shake, and i reach out to grab it. rip off your wimple and leave it crumpled on the rectory floor, sucking the passion of your christ into my... praise device.
open mouthed/ craving the pouring of an anointed oil from height, the chrism splashes on my body like light, catching and throwing refracted angles, hues of hallelujah blues, why this lust and synchronous device of yearning. to touch myself turning into a soft chattering of keys, shaking in nervous hands at the locks of the CAPITAL offense. a lifetime of uncomfortable torment, eternal after my brief foray in this world of form with this vessel most mightily craving an warm embrace. nightly i am tempted to leave this faith and then a prayer takes me, to the synthesizer and i bang MOZART on the organ and make up my own words to pop song melodies. P I A M O U S, amplifiers lie and yes!

I am no saint. I have no sect. I pray homages to no thing save necks. hot oxygen rich on one side, and cool streaming cerulean foolish into the muscle must use. full of the magickal precept of exchanging classical gas for energy, after all we are all made of the same plasma whether or not. anyone can see it like synesthesia. God this one mix is beautiful too! I can practically feel the purple pouring off of you in sheets. ...

HAN, ancient as it sounds, profound in your crocus bent low before the coming of the anointed one.
ROYAL, he came both human and unreal, god manifest, or else dare i heresy suggest you could be like that best of all prophets. jesus you moppet.
welcome to long gone ladies electric playland of *** imagining you. even though i've never seen you before, in that cool delicious shift you wear. the one i speak of you know. a few years old. and you know all your lovers get caught staring at you in it. plz come to me tonight, they think as they lie down on the pillow adjacent yours. i. i. i. i. just watch your skin in moonlight ooh ooh its just, prescient, and i really hope you'll not take this the wrong way or delete the garrulous things i say. medium violent lust. like dusk.
like Hex triplet #800080 or according to munsell. when really. id just as soon buy you a summer dress called orchid.
psychedelic phlox, pansy purple ...This was a Crayola crayon color from 1958 to 2003. mmmm. sweet horn carry me now to the end. and not have me shackled to this whimsy. of seeing an online entity in the color most befitting a lust f(x) = purpure.
wanting to be purely a strange way to say, hey fergiebee, thanks for making all the mixes! your audience enjoys you. and i certainly think you. did something nice here. and i hope i was not rude to pretend for a moment i was a, 'man of the cloth' struggling with a feeling of passion.

it just happens. like images defines characters and art follows the functionality of life, naming such feelings as floral or royal in the fading light... and im 2hrs from a sunrise. and 24hrs from another semester so i won't have time for this fun conjecture. conjuring weird want, because your eclectic mix makes me ...feel haunted by the menace of irie weather. ...kidding,just i love your mix is all. all i need to know is how long until i can be outside in nothing but hot pants!

had you heard before now, about Michael Crichton and the way he writes best sellers by making up information that sounds true. or the way Black Uhuru, does reggae. ...either way, asterisks make me think of functions turned prime. 1prime is velocity 2nd is acceleration and the 3rd is jerk. lemme start this and go to work. cross myself 1st and pray god my imagery be peerless, because in fear thus i know these mixtape makers are probably _LICIOUS at least and all i wanna do is get caught up in a beat/

making off with a bag full of my art. my blood saturated bag, crimson is the color i flagging in energy drag limpid fingers in a spreading pool. pause now, because im like to get knocked out ... by the sad fact that most women (and men im no sexist) see $$ defined as success. maybe thats because i can't get paid for my tresses, or my love of absolving the confessors their percieved sin. thats rite, ima long haired priest. and sometimes yes, i've been known to look through fleur-de-lis spotted windows with wide eyes and sail away this pious ship saying/ your lips should part pushing our fathers, into a Hot Tramp Stamp, you know like 'hitting it from the back' saying beside still waters as the come at that referral to you looking at yourself in the mirror and saying, inferior. i say! embrace all fear, stand with shoulders squared and stare eye to eye with the god that lives breathes walks eats and talks. your face is a mess, and in its unkempt beauty behold, the ALCHEMICAL GOLD the ancient magickans sought. transubstantiation. you've got the power! never sour on who is looking at whom, the space between, a dream and a reality, is the thinnest thread of eyes closed and subtle astral thoughts bouncing around in your head. Go Watch 'Youth Without Youth' by F.F. Coppola if you haven't already. Sorry I can't punk right now. I'd light you up if I could by God. but that sermon this afternoon already took it out of me. I wish you the best Fergie! be yourself and you'll be fine!

I'ma tear up that mix with two lips thinking about how lovers find themselves the most well met. heart to heart and tulips like some single entity...

Ha! That's the trouble with this mix.
Thanks for playing.

Great journey. Got caught, but enjoyed it nonetheless!