zomg sry 4 not upd4tign
Tuesday night. There's no WAY he's getting in here. I have moved many a mountain around the mews of this monster. It never ends.
I would move many a mountain for this muse, this monster. "YOUR heart hurts?" I didn't mean to tunnel until I hit a fireball. That was, as are they all, an innocent mistake. I have hurt myself skating and I have hurt myself whilst turning leaves, whilst shaving, whilst making faces in the mirror, whilst deliberately misanswering questions. I have tripped over cordless phones, incurred the wrath of four parents, planned a hostage situation, hidden the truth, I have failed to act. Not all at once! Don't misunderstand! This is a summary.
But x, that young sprat. That variable. One setting: Um. As much as I, v, have a particular disdain for the way he operated around 06-07, without him I would just be velocity. One setting: I love you. With him I can be an integer. Balanced, wise, a stable and natural rhythmic figure, prime, even, open, curly?
x/v
2
Um/I love you.
I'm perplexed. I'm confused as hell. WWJD? What would Jojo do?
"Just trelax. End don't forgettu breathe!" Frig.
What else is there? Redemption maybe. The chance to talk into a mic to people. To appease x, a dying thespian. To dustbust some of my ghosts.
I moved down here to fight a war. "Come across and help!" Verdun.
But it scratches at my Swedish heart. Shakes it like molten light.
What if I can convince my pops that I could really cash in on an allegory about the Boddhisattva Kannon? Then I could uproot and buzz off any ole time. To "Denman Island." To Denman?
That would be dumb.
Maaaaan.
I'm trying this thing where I have a very carefully cultivated disregard for my appearance. I don't think it's working. Or maybe it is.
I would move many a mountain for this muse, this monster. "YOUR heart hurts?" I didn't mean to tunnel until I hit a fireball. That was, as are they all, an innocent mistake. I have hurt myself skating and I have hurt myself whilst turning leaves, whilst shaving, whilst making faces in the mirror, whilst deliberately misanswering questions. I have tripped over cordless phones, incurred the wrath of four parents, planned a hostage situation, hidden the truth, I have failed to act. Not all at once! Don't misunderstand! This is a summary.
But x, that young sprat. That variable. One setting: Um. As much as I, v, have a particular disdain for the way he operated around 06-07, without him I would just be velocity. One setting: I love you. With him I can be an integer. Balanced, wise, a stable and natural rhythmic figure, prime, even, open, curly?
x/v
2
Um/I love you.
I'm perplexed. I'm confused as hell. WWJD? What would Jojo do?
"Just trelax. End don't forgettu breathe!" Frig.
What else is there? Redemption maybe. The chance to talk into a mic to people. To appease x, a dying thespian. To dustbust some of my ghosts.
I moved down here to fight a war. "Come across and help!" Verdun.
But it scratches at my Swedish heart. Shakes it like molten light.
What if I can convince my pops that I could really cash in on an allegory about the Boddhisattva Kannon? Then I could uproot and buzz off any ole time. To "Denman Island." To Denman?
That would be dumb.
Maaaaan.
I'm trying this thing where I have a very carefully cultivated disregard for my appearance. I don't think it's working. Or maybe it is.
