Contagious

What if? I hate to insist upon, my resistance, no pointed stay-cation. Permit only, if my passport requires me, will I let ‘them’ inject me, see.

We gesture in bows to untested potions. Nope, not me. Government fuck-ary flavoured candy covered notions, I don’t bank. Or sink to the pile of those nay-said bleeders. Don’t poke me. Your sharp stick poison rests ill.

I don’t trust ‘their’ nonsensical diatribe of seeding. I don’t apologise either, there is no concession, I’m reading. Trust me. Data banked my DNA in testing, immigrated. More a financial investment, that pollutant restriction. Miserly (ph) tablet manufacturer rhyming slags.

I tracked integrity, two test kits are compulsory, upon entry. (£210-plea) Despise them. Enough, sent one, no didactic statements or bate. My hollow solo, lost statistically, but, again I’m analytical themed. Negative. Causality delivers the truest reality. My money turned blacker upon my own testimony.

I doubt authority always questions, push-shove oligarchs fiery-pyre, firework displays of distraction. Cracks in the story tree. Cash splashes attraction. Top-netted (scraped) from humanity, not in service or named philanthropy. No, invading our biological entities, in generation of profit batteries. to charge-them. Fuck off.

“There’s 1000’s of people all like me all over” Tim Smith said. Dead quiet though.