Once Upon the Perfect Midriff

Now that it came to the situation as perceived in the dream, I felt the deja vu I've never thought I'd feel once in my life.

It's not possible with perfect memory.

In any case, the alien intone played in an unnerving midriff: an eerie sensation too torturing for the common psychology, and overdramatic for romance─but serene enough for my escapist personality. There was no need to change the words. Insurgence of a lingering sensation, how I wanted peace and quiet that I stopped time─attached alongside the winter wonderland on an outburst of needless mana─was recalled for reality itself.

Haywire.

I remember the dream clearly now that the stimulant arrived.

I've got nothing to do but wince at the whimsical fervor, and see the end being a superficial error in need of crucial repair.

Elaboration must come into account.