So clearly, the moral of this story is that if this ever happens, I need to hide all the hot chocolate right away before anyone can steal it.
Fucking snow.


Queen CitySometimes I think Id like to leave this town, just walk away without ever looking back. But without these city limits I doubt Id know who I am. We are only the sum of what weve learned through experience and while my memories here are often melancholy at best and, more than likely, destructive, I guess theyre better than the bland Kodak moments Ive had elsewhere. See, while this city has never made me feel happy, its a least made me feel alive, and thats more than can be said for most places Ive been.Queen City
Im walking down city streets, half-familiar and half-new, feeling more like


A Eulogy for YvonneI first became insane when, amid depression, insomnia and homework, I decided to try my hand at playing God, saving souls too damned to ever hope to be whole again. We all have our limits but some of us dont know what they are until we go too far.A Eulogy for Yvonne
She was Disaster and I was Compassion and I tried my best to heal her, despite the evidence against me that said she could never be fixed. When she pulled me down it somehow felt more like Heaven than like Hell, but Im no angel and even demons are afraid Shell corrupt them.
Shes undeniably human and maybe her jackal-soul feels more at home there, c
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.:.Without music life would be a mistake.:.
myspace.com/im_so_board_o_and_hi_kiki
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They called it war and made us soldiers, gave us guns and made us kill. They bandaged our wounds, stitched up our scars, made dolls of our shells stuffed with bullets, and packaged us away labelled "damaged goods".
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.:.Without music life would be a mistake.:.
myspace.com/im_so_board_o_and_hi_kiki
--
They called it war and made us soldiers, gave us guns and made us kill. They bandaged our wounds, stitched up our scars, made dolls of our shells stuffed with bullets, and packaged us away labelled "damaged goods".
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