fishing for feedback and INPUT/OPINIONS ! called ' A move by the maker'

a story about an egyptian princess destined to die as a sacrifice to a magnificent esteemed god on her [18?] th birthday. the story would be the unravelling of her mind as she reaches the date, her gradual dissasociation with her culture and values exploring the bouderies of space and time meetoing shamans as she begins her 'last walk' a seven day traditional walk around egypt to her final resting place. some possible adevntures.. meeting spirits in the nile, travelling through time in her mind to past lives [in atalantis] to the future[rome] possibly... but more a story of her desenct into fear of her coming death, and loss of the things she valued as eternal, like her beauty and social standing. conditioned as a child, she begins to deeply recognise the equal value of life, and challenges her reiligion, that says the gods have decided her fate. she realises she is the master of her own fate and the possibilties open as she realises she could choose to escape.... but for the ending i don't know! will it be tradgic, her heart ripped out bare fisted and raised to the pyramids?, or will she realise she can live guiltless without sacrificing her life, for the sake of a feared god?. as she travels into her fear of god, and realises that she is her own judger... i can't decide. they're both good endings. I think the first one could be made really disatrous if she adresses all the alterantive possibiltites, but goes with it, or she nearly escapes, and is forced, like a murder by her own dad. yes this is good. forced with the hand of her crying dad as he believes its for the sake of the world and gods. the final blow to her journey into soul is forgiving his ignorance as he nods the command to the executioner... that could create alot of suspense, and tragedy, if i made her freedom seem real..
begining
family relationships. incest. opium and love with a beautiful street boy!! ahhh!
middle
the walk, meets shamans, travels the nile faces transforamtive states of mind music animals spirits personal aloneness
end
near/ escape/ unjustified death to her mind murder, all others absoloute destiny. --> with this endig ther could be loads of twists.. like she came to see it was fate. but a fate to the growth of her soul as she faced the ultimate pain of forgiving her killers. that could be really nice ending, as the pain transforms into brilliant llight and she's fully elated, i could describe a shuddering of the earth as she dies etc, and all that torture, for eons of lives frightfully depthed descriptions of mental anguish etc then... ' all that was, indescribable light'

hhmmm how should i do this story?, and what would be the best end??
does anyone have any ideas for advetures or chance meetings in the middle section of the book?

this is a draft , ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Ebony long boned fingers clasped the clear blue obsidian stone and twisted upwards from the small pot of black charks, to grace the edges of her deep blazing eyes with a prominent dark gleam, that stretched to the very sides of her face. men would drop their papyrus baskets on the orange chalkdust outside when she strolled through the white linen masse of the keroche. sporadic joyful outburts of song would announce the arrival and pasing of her magnificent eye.
And she couldn't love it's attention more.
The stone, used as currency as well as the tool for applying her extentuated features, revelled her elation by representing the wealth of her beauty.
Golden sun reached her bare feet coated in minute silver chains, calling her walk into the streets.
Musical days in the blanhansda open. sweeping rainbow covers of the bartering screeching exchangers billowed in the heavy soft breaks of heat that sent a rush of desert spirit through her thrilling breath.
candlesticks glittered but wouldn't be needed till the purple heaven of eve.
So now she streamed along out the palaces cool reverence, under the blasting bareness of the roads wild animals roamed.
Exhilerating commotion of buying and selling wandered her mind evrytime she emerged. An unappriciated exciting world to her tended one. More of a strain to preserve existence to the players.
but atleast they weren't slaves.
Zoroshma had accpeted her fate a long time ago. cirlcling the evereaching stone pillar with the palm of a very sexual hand, this ritual everyday succumbed a sparkling mind to the nearing time for sacrifice.
held by a tradition that stretched evans, the eldest daughter, first princess of empirical glorious egypt, born the 17th of jorne, abes, 'I must be the only person in the world right now, who the God's have revealed an indisputable death date to' she thought. And felt special for that.

 

WOW~!

In the first para, you have encompassed my whole next level phychology textbook... Just that first para could be a huge book... a whole new school of thought...
Question is, "How much can they fathom without peaking and freaking...

Obviously you intend to fill it with as much mind as it can hold...

Post a few statements that indicate intended base and ceiling of the story's intended restrictions and limitations...


P.S.: Telepathic contact is death threat attack... Bug stings attackers.


And fixup the spelling... I can't read it without falling into spelling's toilet...

 

good one. a scorpion would sting the guard that catches her!, perfect, a slow death by poisoning, he's an exactly deserving character. for the trip back to egypt. thats so good /potential thank you.
I'm trying to make her the 'seeing eye' from childhood so she'll defeinetly be picking up all thoughts to do with her. I've just thought as she nearly escapes, she could push aside a thought of her recapture, as an unfounded fear..but it turns out to be true...

I haven't got to the story yet, I wrote some briefs on some charcaters yesterday , they kind of help with the story, haha sorry for the spelling, I'll check it. I can't type very well, [I type awfully]

fathom peaking freaking..yeah defintete strong consideration. that would come under style. thank you.
#Beggining#
content of setting scene meeting zoroshma, some time spent in relative innocence, being a princess enter state of mind, loves her own reflection, totally baffled by religion, doesn't know what she 'should be doing' time with teachers and their dogma. wrapped up in her own lustorousness.[she is a stunner]
---------
uncle instetous with cousin in palace bedroom scene, leaves to a state meeting, palace grand scenery, describes it's magnificance to zoroshma [has to be a witness to most things as the story is about whats revealed to her]

enter the room and count the slaves coming in and being sent to work, otherside of grand room traitors being killed --> grand stately ceremony, she leaves, to find streetboy in the furnaces, they escape together guard1 sees, them running away, follow guard to explore his character. back to zoroshma and streetboy, with dogs playing music by the nile, having a drink , head to the festival, meet sky dancers, fortune teller, falling in love, giddy hieghts, all things forbidden sees his home /shack ,night comes,boat on nile, sex, smokes.

next day he has had to go to the furnace. Zoroshma walking back alone, past the slaves dragging stones, awe of pyramids and desert, meets cat and co. synthesis of past few days. looks at coming death first time wishes things were different. reluctant to go back to study at palace ' [resting], I could sit here forever.. wild ideas flashed through her mind ..of a paupers life..by the nile' travels past floating gardens on a boat see ..curious man [intro]..blissful at watching the fishes. back to egypt city hops on tram,[how bizzare, behaviour of royalty! thrilled] through gates hops off to crazy street a bit panicy, wheres streetboy?, =SCENE..the edge of the city/big place world etc.. without her mask noone recognises her face is just one in a million. how to get back to the palace? mini journey theough decadance and doubt of what new world she is entering. this can't be streeetboys world?! so theiving etc.. but cat had hopped on with her and saunters through the streets, reminds her of streetboy, his simple life. assured he is diffferent/elevated spiritually.
meets pimp. comes to firm assurance 'I am not some meat for market. I am a princess!' shouts, and everyone laughs and mocks her, look at the liar.

gets back to palace, street boy dead in accident furnace. her world destroyed, by new visions. new world of excitement, danger and threats from all sides.DOUBT has eneterd .trust, ??? common sense comes into play.was street boys death an accident or arranged by guard 1?. no more fake, changed her identity--> [currently in crises and dissaray] fortunately her 'last walk' begins shortly..[just as things were getting exciting] spends time locked in palace inconsoleable, no-one cares she has lost her only love, half her fault because she will not tell/open up to anyone, too scared of their reactions. THIS BREIF TIME USED to potray her contempt for the system and proprietory..growing compassion and love for herself, how they can be so stonefaced, counting slaves when my heart is so much agony?, how can they not see?. realises she is also being false, by wearing a mask so resolves that her 'last walk' will be a journey into being real so it begins..'With only her shattered illusions, zoroshama took the first brave step..'



CHRACTER FIRST BREIFS.
Beggining
The Dad*Major C* empirical king of egypt, bound , a fallen warrior, slave to his conception of identity. wasted on ceremony and formalities. he really believes he is doing the right thing [how tony blair!!] traditionally religious and believes in the idea of good and evil, heaven hell but , mostly power, and reputation...uhoh!
The street boy *Major C*
typically beautiful heart wrenchingly sexy ease comfortable in own skin. fullof life and freedom. scrappy pauper playing a flute type instrument quite jesus like imagery. works in the furnace's of the palace. makes songs for [zoroshma craptemporaryname] she gets to add her own poetry...' but he cannot tell you. how many stars there are in the sky...' so the heartbreak continues. she loves him endlessly but he isn't the end of her hearts journey... he dies in a furnace accident.. the relationship is forbidden. first sexual experince! next day dead.

he LIVES FOR THE MOMENT. a wild creature. they REBEL youthfully together. empowering.

Guard 1*major C* covers her every move deeply loves her doesn't want her to die. A powerless man. a silent unheard pain held within. misinterpreted by her as a cold petty man saves her from discovery without her knowledge though it could cost him his life. follow him...explore his mind and position of witheld love. betrays her twice. [ mixed charcter, selfish love twisted by the things he never said, believes he owns her. fooled by his 'responsobilities' and FALSE JUSTIFICATION not really religious, more subserviant and will use anything to justify his own ends]

the dark charceter. the reason for paranoia. devious needs. weirdo....

Sister*Very minor C* allowed to live a whole life. people make closer friendhsips with her, because they know she will share a longer experience with them. remark in a fight of 'glad, your death is ceartin sooner than later'.. causes a deep wound. Her PURPOSEto show they both know her sacrifice is a grand ceremony and people disregard zoroshma's humanity .

Mother* a superficial creature. doesn't speak much.<-- potential for what few words she says, consider. Is jealous of her young escape from the world as she sees it. kills herself at some point before the sacrifice. an austere grand ornament. Like lady montague . spends most of her time desiging and purchasing things for her tremendous temple of coffin. for her journey into the afterlife, which she secretly has no belief in. 'these bones are already dust' this charceter needs work. so far only a person in relation to how she effects zoroshma. SHOULD she have more of a personal indentity? or zorosh knows that she only knows her thus far?
characters seem to be about beliefs and personal realities/ expression vs lack of


Middle

Shaman* research for this major C* . the floating gardens keeper and designer. <-- opp for good descriptions! teaches her about the value of life, breath ecosystems. maths opp. for floating gardens designs. Astronomy. talk about slaves and the psychology of economics and hierachy, her royalty. gives her new perceptions of life balance.

anyway, nonimposing mystery man. is he real? etc..?

forienger, where did he come from?,. he effects her by making her feel the quality of a mind of light. says al type things. 'good observation', .

scary bag woman*major C*

Zorohma doesn't want to become her, begger hideously disfigured. its her meeting death. or a death of all she is, beauty, youth, adornement. 'when you look like this, you wont feel the same way my dear..' witchy! 'life has a better tang when your far removed from vanity! crunch cruch etc!' still she is mainly repulsed. dies in utter peace in front of keramptha?/ in the crowd at her execution?

Egyptian style highway man*major C * rapes her?/ steals jewllery a symbolic gift, making her more real.NAKED SRTIPPED rape would be possibly her defiance that nothing is lost. she feels stronger. that the man had no joy , only no heart and a mask.[nb., she has dropped her mask]. a man who grabbed the things he thought precious in life. stealing and full of fear. she laughed and DIDN'T PITY HERSLEF. she knew she had taken the risk by wandering alone. he gets killed on the way to her recapture by guard 1* who sees him selling/wearing her jewles, in a fit of jealous rage and inner sight of the rape. in a way he[guard1] is trying to kill himself for betraying zoroshma but hasn't the courage. he could risk his life by calling him to a fight, or stab him from behind, considers and goes for the latter. hwyman' who is this deamon from my past?, just as i reform?, i've never met you?'guard 1 'but we are closer related than you could concieve of'
highwayrape = pregnancy

CHILDREN somehow a school of children

b tw this started as her 'last walk' but progresses at some point into a bid for freedom.

children singing and seem to understand her troubles immideately, and have the perfect cure, a game of some sort. as she leaves they say, 'come back one day my friend!'

Some other scenes for exploration mountains, animals, nile, desert, oasis, trees, nightskies stars, fires, caves.

graveyards internalise noise,. sees a man with megaphone ears. as she starts to fall asleep in the hiding place. dreams and reality collide in the braveyard! whooo! perfect hearing. she can 'hear death, in the same way I hear life'

this is where she rejects the need to conform to what would literally satisfy a nation. becasue she sees it as ignorance. that god is a personal reality. not a fear enducing creature. but the otherside of death life. duality,. two sided coin etc found heaven and hell with the same breath in/of life. her belief becomes that to choose to die [sacrifice conform]after discovering life would be suicide and giving up. that the people doing it were muderers out of their fear of punishment. cowards killing out of hope for recognition and reward. the theme of self responsobility to your own life.[and what type of glory do you expect?!] taking care of own, etc..[difficult part] she learns she musn't kill this life[her own] to please a fake religion. that life itself is the greatest thing to behold. more valuable than realms of hierachy in gods kingdom, or heavens and all their glory.

'just this breath' , shamans words.

anyway turns FEAR INTO LOVE. sees hers is love, the blood hunters is fear.

she's faced her fear. NB. the strong tradition of egypt has been bashed into her head from a young age, to suddenly see it all as a silly game of fear, is astonishing, . the system is overuled by the simplicity of 'all will be provided' for the first time. she sees education is just a way of repressing minds and ensuring no breakthroughs into secret worlds of hidden reality. out of fear!! of the unknown./preventing revoloutionaries

so blah she is enlightened, resolves to live freely without any remaining sense of fear decides to start a school realises she is pregnant. knowing she will be fully cared for imagines a long life like the shamans, with children and old age by the nile, farmland and dogs, to call her baby, the name of her first love. 'knowing that the next person she met would be her very best friend for life, she closed her eyes and wept with gratitude into her sleep. the fear was really gone'.... ahhhhhh *sigh*

den den dennnnnn. the next person she sees is guard 1! come to take her back to death. an alien man, so bitterly confused about his role [some kind of flippin chrisitan!/dogmatic missionary] convinces himself he is working in gods name, all he says, in gods name.<-- great contrast to her recent discovery of god self. he is still pretending there is a mighty vengeful doctrine. not stopping for breath. he is stung by a scopion within seconds of catching her. dies a slow miserable poinsoned death on return to egypt. [pours heart out, to her /or/ inner monolouge of his charceter, not being able to express therfore exentuates inner poisoning]can't decide if she should get furoiusly distressed or not. maybe initially as she thinks this is just a test of my own power, 'i will persevere, i will continue my new found path, i've seen the future!' she thinks as someone shouts, 'the vision! death on the mount of [blahh]! glory in gods name! the vision!, , the vision!' echoing in her ears. she was always called 'the vision' for her deep eyes. a sign of an old soul.

ABSOLOUTE DISBELIEF had she really faced her fear of death? or just her fear of taking the first step outside of the system embedded in her mind?. here it was coming... the final passing through deeply joyous/ tormented faces in the crowd. thinking this[she/sacrifice] was the vision. how does she know they are brainwashed, or that they really believed this was a moment of great destiny?, she beagn to feel that it was! her final blow on the table. her near escape.[ but you can't escape death. and this was the time. she had always known it.] perhaps that was the trouble. yes[ her life had always ended at this point before, and now the story was unfolding. she hadn't changed her path/destiny in time.]

neverthe less, as she watches her dad nod for the executioner, without being able to say a word. sees him clutching her mums headpiece, knows she has killed herself. feels deeply sorry for him that he will now lose another woman in his life. her sorrow goes to the king, of egypt, 'just a fearful man, a fallen warrior holding back the pain refusing to cry' well she would! and her heart cried deeply it goes to the crowd braying for blood and holding out cups to be filled, no doubt to sell. facing the endless sky, the old hag returns, shouts life is precious! guard 1 splutters and chokes desperate to be alive at the moment, he dies before and misses it. unluckyy! as her heart is ripped out and held up, she sees it still beating and thinks how beautiful the inside of her looks. definitive moment of INSIGNIFICANCE and pain. sees the ceremony helps her to feel that way. [with insignificance A nd pain comes some great awakening]
fade to her being ' all there was, indescribeable light'

as the ground shakes, causing the crowd to gasp a simultaneuous breath, 'and everyone there took a deep breath as the ground shook mighty flaying far the highest stones of the [blah] tower. a flock of birds sweep from behind it and over their heads, a sign that a great soul has passed. / or just end with this death, they would carry on with fearful beilefs of a vengeful god, and it remains to be a personal discovery [personal power, god self] for everyone[the crowds and masses all types congregated] to make themselves 'if they would choose, to look beyond egypt'


thats it.. if you read that, much, appriciated . what do you think it needs/i should do next?
I hope that has designed the bounderies of the story. by showing how far each characters mind, and life goes..?lol everyone dies really

 

GREAT IDEAS!, they've all been mashed into the plot. love! the bug stinging. it fits perfectly with a character.
The base and ceiling of the story so far, is that this girl, considers herself a princess, is pretty vain because of her social standing, discovers sex and youthful love, changes her identity, and brings doubt into her life of all she has previously known. starts to question the system, and her death date. values her own experience more, rejecting all she has held true, takes her 'last walk' around egypt befoe her sacrifice. this turns into a bid for freedom, where she meets trippy characeters has adventures and dissolves her need to wear a mask. loves herself for allowing the growing process and trusts in God, who she comes to know as herself, the breath of life.
tragedy, she is recaptured, by a guard and killed for the gods, but she has rejected this system, and sees the situation from anew perspective. her god is one of love, that wouldn't allow her to kill another human. their god is a vengeful one that instills them with fear, and murderous rage. LIke the crucifixtion she forgives them all and vanishes into vibrations of light and love, while they continue their hurried cycles of repressed and contorted suffering.
So not much of limit really, but there are other characters who are more readily relatable, who have distinctive deaths, thoughts and contrasting personalities.

Hows it going then?, what should i do next?!

 

QUOTE:Keramptha: "a scorpion would sting the guard that catches her!, perfect, a slow death by poisoning,"

If she holds a touch of evil... then she carries a metal stinger filled with scorpion venom... (venom is a powerful word)... She might stick it in her attacker's jugular, with a passion... It might be a hairpin weapon...

If "he's an exactly deserving character." then he deserves Extreme Pain...
I'd spend twenty statements describing his pain from the venom, and his desperate futile attempts to hold to life... each attempt at a peak, seeming it just might succeed, then fails, caves in, as his Being and life essence, like a fine vase shatters on the marble... And if he really deserves hurt, then his last breath is stifled by something akin to horrid desperation... maybe a face full of red hot choking cinder dust... searing his face, throat, and lungs as he breathes it in on his last gasp...
Yikes! I even frighten myself!



"I'm trying to make her the 'seeing eye' from childhood so she'll definitely be picking up all thoughts to do with her."

...Then her mind is somehow detailed in solid terminology, solid factors, physical liquid to solid facets...



"I've just thought as she nearly escapes, she could push aside a thought of her recapture,"

and incorporates each of those those memories as guidance to each next move...


"as an unfounded fear..but it turns out to be true..."

Just as her success seems inevitable, she fails slightly, then horribly... but another obscure option presents itself... She takes it with all her willpower, and barely escapes, then happily escapes... But! This is where I'd have her wounded, and bleeding, and applies a crude quick tourniquet, and just before falling into unconscious, she manages to escape yet another presenting danger...


"I haven't got to the story yet, I wrote some briefs on some characters yesterday, they kind of help with the story, haha sorry for the spelling, I'll check it. I can't type very well, [I type awfully]" Who doesn't...


"fathom peaking freaking.. yeah definite strong consideration. that would come under style."

That's what the general populous does when confronted by newness...
The general public doesn't have a clue what is "style"... The public is an orchestra of mismatched faults... mostly negative...



#Beginning#
content of setting scene meeting zoroshma, some time spent in relative innocence, being a princess enter state of mind, loves her own reflection, totally baffled by religion, doesn't know what she 'should be doing' time with teachers and their dogma. wrapped up in her own lustorousness.[she is a stunner] [a goddess in a people skin]

The virgin woman, softly caressing a pet fish, in the pond... while a great lion watches peacefully from a distance... imagining the textures and tastes of her flesh in its jaws...


---------
"uncle instetous with cousin in palace bedroom scene, leaves to a state meeting, palace grand scenery, describes it's magnificance to zoroshma [has to be a witness to most things as the story is about whats revealed to her"

There's a crack in the wall... In the story... but never solved... and reoccuring mention...


"enter the room and count the slaves coming in and being sent to work, marked up in hieroglyphs[one life marked in jogging] . otherside of" grand room traitors being killed as a warning."

and killed with passion of sport and the sheer fun and excitement of the kill...



"afterwards there is a grand stately ceremony,"

Sunlight flashes reflections from golden objects... Detail the biting colored flashes, and how it stings the eyes and the brain, and even the sinuses... Detail things never before detailed in ceremonies, creating the illusion that you have redefined "ceremony"...
(that one alone is worth oscars and grammys, and will be immitated for decades, maybe even centuries)... study Liz Taylor's greatest scene... and triple it..





That's all I can do for now... this god damned flu is turning me insideout... makes it very difficult to process thought on these levels... Makes me feel like 6 billion people are sharing their pains with me...

 

Flippin ace. I'm lost for words. well except get better soon and shape up, i need you!
Iam loving the plight of main character before comatose btw!! right, off to look up,, tourniquet...

 

Re: "I haven't got to the story yet.."

I'm thinking that the story just happens as you create the characters...
At least that's what I've discovered...

Once day I was sitting on a huge boulder near a path on a busy beach, pondering a character I was creating the day before, when 6 brand new characters suddenly entered the scene, to my surprize and shock, and I suddenly was sensing all their feelings toward each other... is when some whiner asshole, walking on the busy path, says loudly to his girlfriend, "He sure can get into in well", right to my ear... and the whole vision crashed like a light bulb tossed against a cement wall... 9 characters exploded in my head... DAM! I hate those roaming whiner announcers who must instantly verbalize everything they see... I wish I had a mental raygun that would vaporize them in a puff of smoke...

Anyway, Create the characters like a slow explosion, and the scene should just ooze off them, right before your mental writer's creativity eyes...
When I really get into it, all I have to do is just watch and write the movie as it plays before me, (inside me)... Is there a scientific terminology for that ability?
There must be a couple hundred movies in my 60 thousand pages of notes... I just wish I wasn't so lazy...

It's crucial that you know where your creativity is sourced... Top right brain hemisphere, creative center... If you want it to tell you where it is, just apply a tiny bit of extreme blasphemy to your output, and your religious conditioning will sting in your head right where your creative center is...
"Extreme Blasphemy".. I.E.: Illusion Ramming a beer bottle up JC's arse to open it, and yell "TightenUp!", and snap the cap off... and force yourself to believe that the beer bottle is openned... and hang on tight...
Caution! Do not let the snap, crackle, stings go for any more than three units... (Hot Dam! they do hurt like hell leaving!...)
That should be enough to destroy your religious conditioning permanently, thereby allowing you access to the 87% more that you are, that religion doesn't want you to know, and see, and use, and be... cuz then religion wouldn't be... Then you'll have All your creative potential at your access, right in your face... and one day you'll likely need a wheelbarrow to carry your oscars from room to room..

 

I hate those roaming whiner announcers who must instantly verbalize everything they see... never stop...a whole lifetime.. 'look, theres roadworks, pidgeons, pause pass a sign.. we're in london now, those men are arguing...

lol, I really can't say 'jesus was a ****' without laughing lol i am def. conditioned there, it makes me giggle hysterically. okay, i'll get through it, this is going to be fun for a few days...lol, i can't even say jesus now.....ahhh too funny
needs a breakthrough though you're right.

 

If you lived in this culture, you are religion conditioned to a degree...
It's in the composition of all our school books, our teachers, on TV, in our food, in everything, and everywhere...
This technique literally burns that software's connections out of your brain... Thus the sensed stings and momentary heat... and you even hear and feel the crackles... Then you are totally permanently free of all that shit... and all you've got left is all of you... just pure you...

Just push the beer bottle in far enough to hook the rectum muscles, or it won't snap the cap off properly...

 

it's definately networking.. there must be tonnes of this stuff. also the part about being told all the time, only 25% of the brain is available for use....thats in there too. how very helpful.... I've just had a thought that taking drugs is a way of people trying to wipe out..no actually. that we're so messed up they need that radical intervention. to start some chaos and hope for the best. I'm going to overload on positive affirmation!

ohh it all hurts.... 'i am beautiful' hurts the front, thats female conditioning, lol. it's much deeper than the religious fear.
thats a blimmin good technique, thanks. me and my brain are so grateful,

 

Could you expand on that... Roll a powdered pot joint in a paper fully coated with h-oil, containing powdered sheesh, some shrooms, and a line of tobacco... and take a few sips of good sweet wine.. and listen to ocean wave sounds from an Environments recording...
I think you've got some powerful good points there, that Need to be exposed, expanded, extrapolated, extraneously exhibited, and evolved... expertly...
Don't hold back... just roll it out on the paper in autimatic format, and hit the world with it... I am anxiously looking forward to reading your new high explosives...

 

Stretching under jostling bells, she bowed a river of blor silk that whispered at the tips on marble, and clicked each backbone in succession from the base. Her arms wrapped lovingly behind kneecaps. Having to laugh at what curious effect she had on guard one, his electrocuted approach suited the grand charisma of the most powerful palace in the world. Amusement wracked her warm blood, letting him speak to her in those assuredly confused tones while her filling head drunk under the arch of supple legs, nodded involuntairily in an agreeing style.

.
please rip it to shreds!

 

Without hearing a word amongst the swimming of fluids he had gone already, wary at each splintering step of his duties to king merodthsk.
‘My dad?’ the 17 abes were not convincing.
Cantering races to set up first stall, spurred furious shaking of gold fisted arms. Thundering to halt at her vision, a common blockwood cart bouldered with coal, winced in the sun. Restless to move it shuddered, jolting the boy who leaned upon it’s hidden maroon colours. He was covered in soot. [streetboy] Zoroshma remembered herself and stood elongated with a fervent smile, to spin back for whatever convention guard 1 had summoned her,. ‘that boys eyes were so…enticing’ she thought. The regalities wouldn’t touch his bright beckoning. Besides her head was spinning whirlpools scattered with bulbous swimming creatures.
Swallowed by the grandiose box again, swirling tendons gathered bones through a vast celinged space to the hall. Her nodding eyes flickered, sending butterflies in wavy crimson blues to all seated. Their silent prayer positions didn’t hide the gaping stares. A mass of peeking eyes reflected each other in a sea of linen.
Blasting through several steep walls of creamed marble and stone, Uncle nerhithes was showing his affection for cousin loraintey. Where below sorts rushed for bread, up in the realms of many layered curtains and priceless spun covers, pores tingled open to the mingling efervesence of salty rivers flowing- licked, some weeped.
Nerithes stauesquley drew a heavy sword from the casket with singing zest, it proudly stung in to place across his unimpressive frame, shrunken by the groaning bedroom door.
‘This magnificent monument, our home!’ he beamed with spreading arms that met only her hand to reduce him from customary embrace, as it redirected to the hall, ‘After you, uncle’