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Simple. I decided I wanted a place to write, at least every few days. At that pace, I'll have enough stuff for a writing porfolio, and see what I can do with it. But, at this point, I'm drained.. I think, and I'm at a loss for what to talk about. I rant at random. It's lyrical venting at it's best, ironic tendancies, and blissful ignorance. Pervert with a passion for words. What can I say...? Alot. I'm spitful, and raging. Torrant and confused. I have emotions and they stand at still, and I'm spinning in a daze of the non-existant. My words make so much sense to the tired eye, maybe even high... - high on illusional-dilusional... hypothetical... perfection. Meaningless babble.. On this note... I'll just walk away. My tummy hurts, and I want to talk to Geoff. Merph. I hate attachment, and he ain't even my damn boyfriend. ::eye rolls:: Post a comment in response: |
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