I was treading through floods only South Central ghettos can carve and got the sudden cliche urge to be suddenly cliche deep and sensory so I could avoid being cliche-ass drunken college boy who posts digital documentation of his journeys with the Russian dictator of Vodka shots.
In Sumba exists a culture defined by dark esoteric religious beliefs
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norah jones, minus tea, plus cold soy milk and ice cream.
err, something about rain makes me want to go dairy?
rain here seems to only happen in the morning.
how have you been?
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