variety with blog and music

I feel it most concerns me to think of a fire where there are no ghosts to let us in. Where ever there had been a crowded faint, there’s where the figment gets away. I could go on about how another’s dream is not my dream and infact there is a catalyst to the stereotypical portion of the joke.
A girl pulls the covers over her head as an exacto knife replicates the cry of her feelingness. It’s a coil of ranting. This is my world, yet the property of existance shelves itself at times. Just like it did so tonight.


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