May 05, 2008 00:49
Ok so waking up with a huge splitting head ache and no idea where you are, isn't as fun as it sounds.
I suppose this quaint little castle is mine then? Can't say it isn't in need of some decorating though. But a home is a home is a home is a home is a home is a... Well, you flick the abacus.
poetry in motion,
home,
arrival
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The fact that I'm not lying in a ditch some where with several large men covering me with dirt pleases me.
The old guy with the beard doesn't seem to mind.
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The old guy with the beard? Did he say something to you?
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Or maybe that was the old woman with a beard. Who knows perhaps I was the one talking. Haha
Don't you hate loosing track of a conversation.
Old guy couldn't help himself.
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Is taht the password?
Or maybe it's four o'clock.
Close enough right? Unless you got a better offer?
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Ah that's temporary residence, you'll need to find a job to get a permanent home. ..Flick the wha?
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Thee one true invention of genius! Only I can't emember what that genius was. But I am absolutely sure it was one of the fundemental blocks of someones development. Maybe ask mom or pops?
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