I bid adieu to my B vitamin steak. I will miss you.
Picture a world without milk.
Ice cream melting rapidly, just like time.
Urban punks in Cahokia, rocking our Superphones.
You know how important we are with screens and phones.
Those epic malls and convenient centers of Valhalla uploaded to the Grand Central Terminal internet.
Brace yourself for Temu. It’s got it all. Soon it will be too much.
Wars of value, relevance, and delivering discarded items.
All this didn’t last as long as the Milky way.
The soil’s health is not being discussed on Facebook Reels.
Just like space explorers, microplastics are on a mission through the vastness of our environment.
When you think about it, everyone is basically a hibakusha.
Every brain harbors scenarios that resemble Katsushika Hokusai’s, The Dream of the Fisherman’s Wife.
A fantasy that fearlessly blurs the lines of reality without consent or limits.
Reality endured a ruthless assault, as if every influencer was squeezing, biting, and sucking it dry.
I always mix up the economy and the stock market like it’s a cocktail shaker.
As of now, it’s not a historical drama that you can binge-watch on a streaming platform.
The Roman Empire comes beautifully close, if you’re interested. Yes, beautifully like bigly.
Mississippians and the Buzzard Cult were hip to the limited series.
I’m pretty sure Edgar Cayce was talking about a computer when he said the word crystal. But I’m still not sure.
It was like time was playing tricks on us, with the present and past all jumbled together.
The memories undergo slight alterations as we recall them.
While amnesia happens a lot, some folks say they can remember past lives at Göbekli Tepe.
A flowing line between garbage and newness. Art with a bold line that separates primate from the software enhancer.
There's this commercial that keeps popping up on my screen about immortality.
I'm thinking about moving my memory to a younger clone. This trend is really catching on.
Don’t stress, actual stars shine brighter than any confinement.
Putting butter in your coffee has its limits.
I bid adieu to my B vitamin steak. I will miss you.
Picture a world without milk.
Ice cream melting rapidly, just like time.
Urban punks in Cahokia, rocking our Superphones.
You know how important we are with screens and phones.
Those epic malls and convenient centers of Valhalla uploaded to the Grand Central Terminal internet.
Brace yourself for Temu. It’s got it all. Soon it will be too much.
Wars of value, relevance, and delivering discarded items.
All this didn’t last as long as the Milky way.
The soil’s health is not being discussed on Facebook Reels.
Just like space explorers, microplastics are on a mission through the vastness of our environment.
When you think about it, everyone is basically a hibakusha.
Every brain harbors scenarios that resemble Katsushika Hokusai’s, The Dream of the Fisherman’s Wife.
A fantasy that fearlessly blurs the lines of reality without consent or limits.
Reality endured a ruthless assault, as if every influencer was squeezing, biting, and sucking it dry.
I always mix up the economy and the stock market like it’s a cocktail shaker.
As of now, it’s not a historical drama that you can binge-watch on a streaming platform.
The Roman Empire comes beautifully close, if you’re interested. Yes, beautifully like bigly.
Mississippians and the Buzzard Cult were hip to the limited series.
I’m pretty sure Edgar Cayce was talking about a computer when he said the word crystal. But I’m still not sure.
It was like time was playing tricks on us, with the present and past all jumbled together.
The memories undergo slight alterations as we recall them.
While amnesia happens a lot, some folks say they can remember past lives at Göbekli Tepe.
A flowing line between garbage and newness. Art with a bold line that separates primate from the software enhancer.
There's this commercial that keeps popping up on my screen about immortality.
I'm thinking about moving my memory to a younger clone. This trend is really catching on.
Don’t stress, actual stars shine brighter than any confinement.
I bid adieu to my B vitamin steak. I will miss you.
Picture a world without milk.
Ice cream melting rapidly, just like time.
Urban punks in Cahokia, rocking our Superphones.
You know how important we are with screens and phones.
Those epic malls and convenient centers of Valhalla uploaded to the Grand Central Terminal internet.
Brace yourself for Temu. It’s got it all. Soon it will be too much.
Wars of value, relevance, and delivering discarded items.
All this didn’t last as long as the Milky way.
The soil’s health is not being discussed on Facebook Reels.
Just like space explorers, microplastics are on a mission through the vastness of our environment.
When you think about it, everyone is basically a hibakusha.
Every brain harbors scenarios that resemble Katsushika Hokusai’s, The Dream of the Fisherman’s Wife.
A fantasy that fearlessly blurs the lines of reality without consent or limits.
Reality endured a ruthless assault, as if every influencer was squeezing, biting, and sucking it dry.
I always mix up the economy and the stock market like it’s a cocktail shaker.
As of now, it’s not a historical drama that you can binge-watch on a streaming platform.
The Roman Empire comes beautifully close, if you’re interested. Yes, beautifully like bigly.
Mississippians and the Buzzard Cult were hip to the limited series.
I’m pretty sure Edgar Cayce was talking about a computer when he said the word crystal. But I’m still not sure.
It was like time was playing tricks on us, with the present and past all jumbled together.
The memories undergo slight alterations as we recall them.
While amnesia happens a lot, some folks say they can remember past lives at Göbekli Tepe.
A flowing line between garbage and newness. Art with a bold line that separates primate from the software enhancer.
There's this commercial that keeps popping up on my screen about immortality.
I'm thinking about moving my memory to a younger clone. This trend is really catching on.
Don’t stress, actual stars shine brighter than any confinement.
Putting butter in your coffee has its limits.
I bid adieu to my B vitamin steak. I will miss you.
Picture a world without milk.
Ice cream melting rapidly, just like time.
Urban punks in Cahokia, rocking our Superphones.
You know how important we are with screens and phones.
Those epic malls and convenient centers of Valhalla uploaded to the Grand Central Terminal internet.
Brace yourself for Temu. It’s got it all. Soon it will be too much.
Wars of value, relevance, and delivering discarded items.
All this didn’t last as long as the Milky way.
The soil’s health is not being discussed on Facebook Reels.
Just like space explorers, microplastics are on a mission through the vastness of our environment.
When you think about it, everyone is basically a hibakusha.
Every brain harbors scenarios that resemble Katsushika Hokusai’s, The Dream of the Fisherman’s Wife.
A fantasy that fearlessly blurs the lines of reality without consent or limits.
Reality endured a ruthless assault, as if every influencer was squeezing, biting, and sucking it dry.
I always mix up the economy and the stock market like it’s a cocktail shaker.
As of now, it’s not a historical drama that you can binge-watch on a streaming platform.
The Roman Empire comes beautifully close, if you’re interested. Yes, beautifully like bigly.
Mississippians and the Buzzard Cult were hip to the limited series.
I’m pretty sure Edgar Cayce was talking about a computer when he said the word crystal. But I’m still not sure.
It was like time was playing tricks on us, with the present and past all jumbled together.
The memories undergo slight alterations as we recall them.
While amnesia happens a lot, some folks say they can remember past lives at Göbekli Tepe.
A flowing line between garbage and newness. Art with a bold line that separates primate from the software enhancer.
There's this commercial that keeps popping up on my screen about immortality.
I'm thinking about moving my memory to a younger clone. This trend is really catching on.
Don’t stress, actual stars shine brighter than any confinement.
I bid adieu to my B vitamin steak. I will miss you.
Picture a world without milk.
Ice cream melting rapidly, just like time.
Urban punks in Cahokia, rocking our Superphones.
You know how important we are with screens and phones.
Those epic malls and convenient centers of Valhalla uploaded to the Grand Central Terminal internet.
Brace yourself for Temu. It’s got it all. Soon it will be too much.
Wars of value, relevance, and delivering discarded items.
All this didn’t last as long as the Milky way.
The soil’s health is not being discussed on Facebook Reels.
Just like space explorers, microplastics are on a mission through the vastness of our environment.
When you think about it, everyone is basically a hibakusha.
Every brain harbors scenarios that resemble Katsushika Hokusai’s, The Dream of the Fisherman’s Wife.
A fantasy that fearlessly blurs the lines of reality without consent or limits.
Reality endured a ruthless assault, as if every influencer was squeezing, biting, and sucking it dry.
I always mix up the economy and the stock market like it’s a cocktail shaker.
As of now, it’s not a historical drama that you can binge-watch on a streaming platform.
The Roman Empire comes beautifully close, if you’re interested. Yes, beautifully like bigly.
Mississippians and the Buzzard Cult were hip to the limited series.
I’m pretty sure Edgar Cayce was talking about a computer when he said the word crystal. But I’m still not sure.
It was like time was playing tricks on us, with the present and past all jumbled together.
The memories undergo slight alterations as we recall them.
While amnesia happens a lot, some folks say they can remember past lives at Göbekli Tepe.
A flowing line between garbage and newness. Art with a bold line that separates primate from the software enhancer.
There's this commercial that keeps popping up on my screen about immortality.
I'm thinking about moving my memory to a younger clone. This trend is really catching on.
Don’t stress, actual stars shine brighter than any confinement.
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