We create what we want, and make it as we want it to be. And some people eat that shit up. Or they don't, we just like to pretend they do. So what is the point of us doing what we do? Living this life? Doing this stuff with neither beginning or end?
Think of the weak, think of them. They need you, they need people like you. They don't have the mind to do the things that come so easily and effortlessly, so naturally to you. If only you knew how much you help, but right now sleep has sold us out.
Goodnight, Sun.
I'm looking back at you right now. Can you see me? Look at me!
My rule book says don't touch anyone, ever, over and over.
If this is your disgust of me, I will take it as a compliment. Come, let me take you home on the train.
My darling, it doesn't matter, really it doesn't. We are here.
Oh you silly baby. You want to call God? Call the law?
What God? What law? A gift is only special if there's proof! All I see are stains on our landscape.
Don't worry about being stained. Stains are normal, a badge of honour. Never give them what they want when they want it. Your skills are your vindication. My skills are less so, but my stains aren't as visible in sunlight, only by the light of the moon. So..
Well we need to leave before they remove the ladder. Or lose the key to the room we're in.
Dear mitigating circumstance..
There are no mitigating circumstances. Let's go.
And a million new disaster's have just turned over in their sleep.
Forever the optimist hey? Come on. Let's go somewhere they can't see what we're doing under the table. This crisis is out of our hands.
And when the drama comes calling, how will you hear it with your ear buds in?
We own the night, it won't matter. But no hiding people in the bathtub this time.
No.
No.
May God give us only as much snow as we can shovel.
Snow? Shit you mean shit.
In the midst of all of the confusion they found themselves trapped in a cycle of lethargy and despair. But just when they thought all hope was lost, they stumbled upon a love so pure and powerful that it gave them the strength to escape the confines of their own minds. As they raced against time to break free from the inner turmoil, they realized that love was the ultimate antidote to the suffering, and with each passing moment, they both felt themselves becoming lighter and more alive than ever before. Just as in all the crap romance novel's.
There's no such thing as a happily ever after, only more mental distress and hard work navigating the path of a slow but certain death trip.
And I am only an Apache
Smoking Hashi
In old Cabashy
By the Lamp.
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