recreation of life: Philosophy Campfire
If ye would like to moderate the Philosophy Campfire, please drop becket@jollyroger.com a
line. Philosophy & recreation of life
Only the fitness can survive that is not corny. Some people develop like plants but some like animals. Muscular plants like fly-traps that can live on killing insects or other animals. Elms are trees like parents that give us shades and chances. Birch is like serious teachers flogging us with good or bad reasons. Some life lives as gorses pricking their enemies in case of imminences. Religious peoples believe plants are some designations from heavens but some noble persons would feel shameful for final limitations. Creepers are plants crawl around for their eclats. There was one lonely olden poet who fond of daisy chains. Smiles from flowers are now shooting but in somewhere that is anguished and came at from everywhere. Wrenched eyes of lambs and sheep were soon closed under the killings of leopards. Under moonlights waylaid the scorpion s eight legs and they are ready to pin through stones by their stringing tails. Two of them danced like solomen and demons. Life are built and destroyed under multifarious cycles. My girls if you are vipers then there are some one to be your venoms. It needed courage to zoom at leopards but when you sneeze to them it could be very nice smells. They give you excitements and many visitors scream for them even that they are often bluffing for human For human if you are poor then tears embellish your two eyes but if you are powerful and wealthy then you are awed trees in our planets. Some cosmetic surgeries will have many women s dating confirmed. Besides opposite s, many wolves also gather together to fight lions. However for human who live like the olden poet with all his daisy chains. Might be what all I need are moneys and coteries to conceit. For celebrates if one day I change my loves but I got moneys then I would still buy sweets from their candy stores. I kiss them with my mouth full of sweeties and dirt them with my stale body