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You're NickedJason nervously stared at the phone, he knew what he had to do and he was terrified, he had already told his trainer and the father of Saraya that he was going to get married to his daughter and Ricky gave him his blessing but now Jason had a much more difficult task.
Telling Saraya-Jades mother, the current Shimmer Champion Sweet Saraya Knight, also known as Julia Harmer, Jason respected Julia and though of her as his 'wrestling mother' in a way and he knew she was a tough as nails as she came back from nearly losing a leg in a match but Jason was still scared of her, hoping that it would be Julia answering the phone and not Saraya.
Jason finally picked the phone up and dialed in the numbers, comtemplating if he should fill out his will right then and there but he never got the chance as Julias voice was heard
"Who is it?"
"Hi Julia, its Jason" says the 21 year old Newcastle native as Julia laughed on the other end of the phone
"Its good to hear from ya' again kid, its always good to
SolaceShe never slept well in the dark,
not without the children of the sun and moon
to guide her weary lids home.
Guided by the aftermath, she was always two steps behind.
What did the world look like to the girl who had been through it all?
Braved the heaviest of storms,
yet skipping over cracks in the pavement.
They said her eyes were the wisps of clouds before the storm.
To him they were reflections of pages overlooked.
She said it was like she lived the life of someone she had never met.
Laid out to dry, yesterdays news.
He knew her as the girl who was built to never collapse.
He wished he was too.
He loved her more than words could say, and yet her pain was such,
that at times, he feared she wouldn’t make it.
But on nights like these, even when it threatened to consume her,
he became convinced that somehow she would.
Southern modernizationBlack comedy market economy, banana peel political humour, cards with the cartels, the solution free room service and credit the union. Bolivar twist, ding dong dollar under control, valley of the coin desert with no value. Gangsta paradise, the victims are the people. Big mac and cold conflict interference a part of it all. In little Mexico you’d need a high horse to jump the great border wall that boasts its peak.
Viracocha melts waters unlike those it rose from, making waves of out of metal oceans to overtake the current south, re-steel, re-take, tech-mechs the entire south into neo-Machu Picchu, cyberpunk music moulding, reshaping old society into an new age, iron dynasty, fresh coat for an old, ancient look. The coattails of Quetzalcoatl if he were a modern man pull together the merge of future and long passed past..techno temples and the like.
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