Sex and Suffering II

 

Church banners showcase a wicked smirk of the jaw grab and underneath write general overseer overseeing a toil and bare neck, a messed up breeder farm, of the mental limp and paraplegic

Because of our ignorance wee are Papiyan favourite play things. he'd put thought in their head and go back to the other person saying "Hmm what do you think about that". Chaos, and disarray, feeding off the combination of ignorance and an excess energy

Wickedness falls the the blood of men, it's pain on the move, speed so as to say I fucked the road with my car. Suffering, an askewed form of coitus, obviate a sate crave that isn't hunger, but one.

The blood controlling Africa is too much and it maddens them, they walk on blood, spill blood while they work. It isn't the wage that is paid but blood in latching a remembrance It's the herniated hip, grunt pull it calls for obedience to the mien, but the mien haven't been evaluated, it smothers regardless and kills every thought in it's wake.
 
Suffering is a pdofopel sex enfrry the cure to witchcraft is sex, Blade on clitoris female genital mutilation, a pain of an existence when one can't excised that little feeling, and it's consequence backs a babe frankly unwanted.
It should be learned in the shrug full constant and bland like a lion, but we crave an Alleluia  for our high brain which plunges us into depravity.

Suffering coitus eternal hacked by region
Repression is it's amped up pent
Every walking body must be fucked, The Penis banana peel with a thought that could bite, however what you bite don't and cannot exist, it can be read out.

These groan becomes the life, it's a scowl, frown, all sexual all empty, brags every wicked laugh bears a promise, but the promise is to the body and not the soul, sand punching sand
Repressed sex is ignorant doesn't mind it business smell, a fold uñcleaned it's a stain, constipation, contrived, They just don't read.
Their lives are a lump of punches protusion and picket change, bilious and still mesmerized their live is a squinted muzzle. They are a cry that didn't happen sobs becoming sods of the heart, when they try to explain Bible verses drop our their lips as the only syntaxes in their brain it isn't what they want to say, but the horde applaud and they have to carry their unfucked self back and itch for a living.

Trapped in their own bodies the African man can only plunge into work and self injury as the only way to wring out this piled up fuck, descends in ostracization into homosexuality and sodomy trying to replicate helplessness as he has seen it
The groan destroys them and the linger a little too longer and stare at the fruit of their labour a little too much seeing if it can be fucked and eaten at the same time.
Their apples grown a blight from constant touch and becomes a vagina, and mind you  must act I think so to the homogenous nod and isn't it sweet?
It's just a who can? 

Trying to out prostitute ourselves and when they tire and find their stroke uninteresting, move with a bat to the head. 
It's just jump and conclusion that discounts it's entirety for me What's a persona that a body and cloth cannot show, you are in trouble of that's all you have.

Filled up with the play and sexual energy, repression means the unexpressed transmutes into wickedness and witchcraft proliferate the minds under cangue and lock, are mighty imperfections to say the least,
living a half life, trying to replicate hurt in mischiefs the African society is a pack of kids never ever maturing smash and grab is their whole affair and their enslavement is a sorry sight.

You must linger on with sexual portent and suffering as how far you can fuck, every African braves an I can fuck, how Long? well Let my depravity show you.
It's an indoctrination originating from stupidity and an imitation God help our soul for it is tiring, they all want to play maybe a little too hard , unexpended energy turns sex info witchcraft, cultism, folly.
I went to their colosseum of masculinity and saw a man hang from a bus eat his food on the road like a dog, scratch his slippers on the tar and for 20 years I shook my head at the waste of human life and went back to my cat.
It is the reason for the shock absorber body they grow buttocks because the men turn their penis into pestles their vulvas must be mortals, walking bowlegged they eat fufu and rheumatism and kick their children like balls
So what is this so called African spirit and African sex. It's an animal that cannot read, A mason wearing a hat in allegiance of his tribe is ignorance with an hat on, what progress when they cannot tackle simple waste management Growing fat as adulthood they wield a chaplet and a slippers, it's alimentary living and beggary. 

It's the lack of sex, read, and hand down of suffering. Life in the waiting, wasting.

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