An Incidental Occidental, a savage stinking of grass-fed butter—a challenge to the delicate senses of the Japanese citizens who pride themselves on subtlety, restraint, and the ancient notion of wabi-sabi—if more than anything but a transient tourist, must be catalogued and tracked—for this was the law of the sacred Yamato island.
One fine morning, on a daily routine, a quick car ride to the bank initiated this surreal scene—life spent in the subpar category of the lesser humans—Muse gave the divine order—killed on the spot by a drunken driver—smeared onto highway 97b at 11:30 in the morning, never to be again heard from or seen.
This Harvardtard bro, also the leader of a quirky group of business people who named themselves ‘fruits in suits,’ happened to be connected to the world of telomeres in the grand city of New York.
The abject failure of sub-standard instructors left this experimental class far behind, in essence, left for dead—in the blink of an eye, a merciless jackboot from behind—off to grade two with no reading skill, and no clue.
Maggie May has now been playing this phantasmagorical game for over eight decades, collecting eighty-four suns with many more to come, for she too, was mandated to follow the sun.
The Japanese Code Word arasagashi saliently describes the art of nitpicking. This is where a highly refined form of unpleasant passive-aggressive behavior reaches the pinnacle of high art—a specialty of the Japanese.
Embodying values based on the ancient principles of the Japanese, Onoda Hirō was instilled with strong values of loyalty and perseverance, facilitating the wherewithal for his 29-year, awe-inspiring camping trip in the deep, humid jungle of the Philippines.
Too hot for a walk—what to do—my beloved puppy needs to stretch his legs and go for a jog—roasting hot at 06:00 on the dot—might just voluntarily succumb to the heat, balking at the walk admitting defeat.
Internalize Japanese to reserve a room with a panoramic view—unseen frequencies of Japanese communication protocol, grant unfettered access to the magnificent ancient world of the Japanese—way of knowledge—way of reach—way of civility—imbued into Civilization Three.
True fortune is in the locus of the beholder, ban butsu, life in all things, organic, visceral, and surreal, exceptionally good fortune of pure energy had The Little Girl delivering the original Omega grandson to Kizuna Jinja Main Gate.
The urge to merge—Kind-Necessary-True—with Form-Order-Process—leaves not much left, but one small step—and without further ado—a gift from us to you—the evolution of creative communication solutions.
Once starting there is no stop—no exit from the infinity train—if you stop, it is never a flop, but you must start from the beginning again—shortcuts do not exist in the Material Sludge manifestation game.
The fabric of reality has now been laid threadbare by Infinity Professor Deutsch, master communicator of the esoteric notions of infinite possibilities, describing consciousness and its counterpart, dark matter, weaving it all into a phantasmagorical spectral tapestry.
After being chided by Muse to become more deeply aware of the nature of humans, to ascertain what people without dreams look like—no original thought, no original scheme—all they can do is repeat what is on TV.
So, what exactly does it take to become the tutelar deity of a neo-clan is a critical question popping straight into inquiring alert flexible minds.
Like any rock solid relationship that stands the test of time, the key to the kingdom and happiness is growing throughout the nooks and crannies of space and time.
A rocket ship piloted by Muse leaves every morning of each day—on ko chi shin—our ancestors laid the foundation for the neo-clan to create the future of Civilization Three.
A formative instance inside the folly of youth, demand the lyrics of the world’s greatest rock drummer replay like the ultimate 1981 rock record, the rush of adrenaline fueled the indoctrination into the notion of freewill, has never been better said
The reanimation of two distinct constitutions has recently come to the forefront, causing significant stir and commotion—heralding societal evolution, the bifurcation of civilization, and the emergence of neo-clans with expanding global communities.
Understanding the Japanese protocol of Form Order Process facilitates creation of articles culturally familiar, thus worthy of the attention of the fickle Japanese.
Bight eyed and bushy tailed, the prospect of what would come from this isolation here in the Land Of The Rising Son was not imagined nor actively sought, it is what happens when you reject the notion of institutionalised drudgery.
This self-directed revelation is where the rubber meets the road—personal emancipation unfolds as Muse gets loose giving birth to a golden goose laying solid 99.999% rhodium ruby encrusted eggs each day.
The transformation from adolescence entailed a massive reframing of the collective Japanese brain embracing the monumental difficulties transforming this cultured ancient society into the pinnacle of cultured civilization and everything such an achievement entails.
This profound realization resonated like a major chord, a direct revelation not to be taken lightly or conjured up on a whim—attaining serenity, rising above pettiness, and definitively ascertaining the meaning of life—ban butsu—infinite life in all things.
