It’s the law, you know. I like you — you gotta like me back. And often. And in so many ways, infinitely endless ways, for you have no limit, do you? I think not. I think not about any of it, for it is bound to happen, bound to come my way, fly my way, delivered, in essence, by whatever means necessary, desire being frisky yang to yin, the knowing.
Oh, how you must like me -- shall we count the ways?
I've got mail! And all from you — I’m wise to your pattern, despite these many, cleverly guised interruptions. And now, another gift -- for me? And FREE! Dream, scheme, you know what I meme. No luck involved, I see you’ve stacked the deck in my favor. Ah, how you love me.
Look back, and be counseled for deceit, no less binding, just a slight of hand, ensnaring fickle riches. Envision, and behold what is, from your perspective, easy peazy and voila, already mine: Mansions and Ferraris -- and there I am, I can't deny, abundantly aboded and driven to excess. Outrageous, your designs for me!
Some might say I whispered in your ear? To them, I say, you might well think that; I couldn't possibly comment. What can I know if I let it all go?
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