In the language of my fathers I will greet you.
Hello.
The amount of patience it takes to move forward had often baffled me. But I guess it shouldn't come as a surprise because procrastination is not the only attribute that I aspire to perfect. That being the case, I have moved forward of my own volition at times. Like the time I was at the grocery store, and I moved forward. Though you might attribute that to the empty space in front of me, the angry customers behind me, and the cashier impatiently waiting for my purchase. You might, but I won't.
If things tend to work out for you, I would suggest that you go with it. There is a lot to be said about things like that.
But I guess if there is a point appointed to this pitifully poor collection of quaintly preposterous paragraphs, it purports to be this. And I quote. "Hello." I'm watching my Ps and Qs roll off the quickly typing tips of my fingers like there was no qqqqqq tomorrow.
In the language of my mothers I will bid you farewell.
Farewell.
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