Hey! I love you!
I want to die with you!
I want to give you a pantsuit and turn you into a hobbit.
It's so hard I want to kill!
It's so bad I don't want it!
It's tearing, tearing, tearing, feeble!
Fetid, torrid, fecal, fetal!
Foal, doe, colt, coddle.
Famish, rearrange, exercise, feel better.
I don't matter what I am...
Everything else must disappear for me to know what is true and real.
I need to dig deeper...
Sexy does not. I cannot feel. I do not know.
It needs to be better. I can imagine.
It feels good... I will get better...
I will break my own heart and make myself cry; it is a good night.
I will see him; I will show him.
I will read her. I will know how.
I will not lose myself.
3 episodes of the Office, season 8.
My bloody experiences. My painful body, my lesser mind.
It wraps and wraps and wraps and gives. Squeezing tightly, getting numb.
Happy actualization. I know I just know.
It's real, it's real.
I am solid and secure. I am human and unmanageable.
Imagine a human.
Imagine two humans... what are they doing... It will change... It is perfect... perfect...
Just a silky blue rain forest. Just mother's grave. Just sunny day. Just an old drugstore. I am older now.
It is all going somewhere, here.
I give in... I wait more. I say it right... I try again.
It is too good. Can I ever even explain as strange and pure as what I see
I got to.
Sure
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