GMBA Gun

 

Rybones interaction, music with crackin, self amusing actions I alleive but only a fraction. I’m extensive within my structure, unique to say the least, unlike any other, I suffer then the pressure’s released. A complex task, I map myself out, a barometrical mass, act internally, I’m physically relieved at last. Ey yo GMBA, fuhgeddaboudit, this is what I say, when my mind goes clouded, but in turn my pain turns away, inner activity gets me mentally shrouded. I fugedaboudit. and say, get GMB-Around it, fuhgeddaboudit. [ GM-Barometrical thinking, I use GMBA for a reason unexplained, I can feel the GMB-Electricity, runnin’ through my veins. x 2 ] I can start in the lower section, ankles calves to knees, rotate and align my hips, my spine becomes intrigued, enacting a space in my shoulder; I have to tell me to breathe. My shoulder links me to me limbs, neck and whatever cracks in between. My hands are a different story, I must exercise them most, they pain me every day, and sound apparently gross. Fingers to wrists, wrists to my forearms, pinky bones through my hands, if I miss then I have some soar arms. Starting with the upper limbs, I must move gently through my shoulder, properly connect my neck, and my spine is aching to be smoldered. Bend my upper half back: crack crack crack in different pitches. My knees gain pressure but if I crack em the pain is vicious. Out of order, it is kupalicious, a barometric mortar then I get to fix this, my bones are bitches, a new body for christmas, that would be straight GMBAlicious. Rybones on my track, crack as I explain, I’m unidentified, uniquely linked like a chain. My inner activity, acts as a refresher, some cracks bring light to others as I’m strangely linked together. How will I make it through this mentally cloudy weather? Who knows if I will make it, but I accept I will be like this forever. Skeletally enchanted, if I run from my inner puzzle; a barometric bomb is planted so it hurts to keep it muzzled. I accept my fate, use the word “goomba” as a cover, fugedaboudit and GMBAlate I’m an unordinary other. it’s my GM-Buffer any word that works sayin’ “goomba” in it. It may be GMB-Unfortunate but it’s my GMBAlicious prison. Maybe if you can fix me, I’d quit with thy GMBAlations, but thus far I’m a mystery so “goomba” stays stationed. I’ve been patient, while I’ve been waitin’, make my ku-purgatory GMBA status and remain in GMBAcation. This life I’ve been placed in, is GMBAliciously tastin, hooray, I keep it this fashion cause I need to be lastin’ instead of wastin’ away.