With the hour of my birth approaching, the world stood still and reflected for a moment on the trials of the past and the prospect that a new illustration of life would bring. 21 years ago, I was the caricature of a dream that was fraught in the distant past of our ancestors. The dream of a future imbibed by the inspiration of life. The style of my infusion into this life gave to a generation an ingredient to flavor its palate with the sensation of rapture. Standing now, at a precipice to the next descent into whatever it is we're living for, I am not hesitant in the slightest to take my line and rock this bitch. With the recipe of my childhood and the ingredients of my future, the reservation for lifestyle conservation bears great prospect upon the future of Bloom. The campaign into greatness relies on a recollection of the past, an unfortunate condition for which I am sadly handicapped in. However, that I do remember of these times, the many fantastical events, the people I spent so many great nights right on into mornings with, and the general places I did these things in, I can maintain for the future a hope for even more.
The day is new. The way is the same. Twenty one years in the making and the world comes into bloom.
Independently liable,
Bloom
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5 comments:
I remember those fantastical moments with extreme fondness. Indeed we are on the precipice of a celebatory event!
Since it's rude to make fun of people for typos, I'll only mention that you forgot an "r."
wait, bloom, are you serious?
To what might you be referring to my anonymous friend?
hahahahahahaha
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