the mayans drink from the sacred temple of Cum! they are aware of our essence our very nature what makes us humanly possible, kim possible
the mayans drink of the blood that they spill thru their own heart sacrafice rituals they bellieve in several gods, even more blood to drink like vampires
mayan heart patterns are everywhere even in our own urine and fetal material tissue makeup seleciton, mayans can create endless possibiltiies though their own spiritual cum, they can think as far as tom fulp into the nether dimensions of power and personality, mayan blood is powerful and deadly
mayans will come back from the dead to slay us and retake their spot on the hiearchy of humanity its only a matter of time,
(Ohmmmmm, Ohmmmm, Ohmmm ) - mayan secret psychadelic mantras, every possiblitly of human awareness is another missed oppurtunity at spiritualism, a chance for spirituality is every picosecond of every day we live on Airth, the planet of Air, the prince of Air, the King and Queen of Air, its Princes and principalities
the mayans share a destiny with Adolf Hitler to rule the planet , they will return to take their spot on the throne they will return we can all feel their return very very close, listen to your hearthbeat, 120BPM (beats per material) the oncoming flow of blood, to your brain, your spirit side awakening, your eyes opening for the second time, your firth breath from out of the womb, every seconds becomes another possibily to breathe and fuck. breath comes from the mantra of the diseased , the dead know all kinds of pain, they will stay dead as they are obsessed addicted with pleasure and pain which is how they died in the first place, all humans fear death and fear until they feel death and become addicted to the sensation of all dead creatures and insects, stepping on a mosquito only fuels their erections into cyber communion with the holy one, the grandfather of all insects, the mosquito king. let him sting our balls into obscurity with his massive stinger to which we only feel complete pleasure unto the end, his eternal stinger, felt by all but only understood by a select few, we are the select few.