I'm only really posting this due to boredom while waiting for a bus, as I'm not entirely sure anyone still watches this page.
Ah well.


Warn Your Children of Talentevery piece of writing is a drunken scribble on an escalator in which you met your first love and every piece of poetry is a song for the lost times the times where friends were real and you were real and sanity still at the very least stood outside your door and waved but it seems that depart that leaving of the niceties really kills you its knowing you are alone and all there is is a piece of paper a typewriter a pen or if you prefer a computer to help chase the days away into nights where you can fall into &nbWarn Your Children of Talent
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Stella you don't have to go to work tonight
They said it's slow so that should be alright
I stole the keys so lets just run away
I'll light a cigarette is you think that's ok
I wanna get started on my comic series but I have no damn clue how to color, or to get it so that people's faces stay constant from one frame to the next |:\
ADVIEC PLZ T0T
Also, my ENTER key is broken. Or close to. I think Kitty drooled on it one too many times. She's currently clawing my leg.
Sincerely.
Some Random Person.
PS. Aaron may be down in the Mount if his cat gets any sicker. Currently she's being kept alive by pure unadulterated rage.
--
If a man sends me flowers I always look to see if a diamond bracelet is hidden among the blossoms.
If there isn't one, I don't see the point of the flowers.
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