My eyes have burst, my stomach has rejected all that is considered nourishment. I see the mosaic off all the sights that the bits of my eyes looking in all directions. My blood runs in thick chunks blotching in my skin. My hands take turns poking them, playing a little game
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Adam found it, because I haven't looked at the mail table and I said "haha, Hottie Rock Star" and he said "Yeah, when I saw that, I knew it had to be for you."
You're a star.
bxx
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