March 2012
February 2012
I’m horny, horny, horny, horny So horny, I’m horny, horny, horny I’m horny, horny, horny, horny So horny, I’m horny, horny, horny tonight
The point is: all the world’s a stage. You need a stage and you need a costume...
– Austin Kleon
Just like any of the abstractions and design of the cluttered mind, to depart from a single painful fragment of its module utilizes your every plausible fiber to afflict damage onto yourself. I can only listen to the rhythmic applause of its history and be left to weep for the soon blow of the audacious escape from memory. Well, non je ne regrette rien.
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I left this fatal fragment burning through the insurmountable reverie. Rooted down in what was once considered melancholic is now a regretful face of an unfortunate being. It was (let me express in the most highfalutin degree) the most beautiful and unforgettable. I cry for lost cling. Fuck you.