i am sick of 2 am. of a friendless 2 am. of a cigarette-less 2 am. i'm lying wide awake in bed, impartial to whether i feel lonely or cold. i want to be running through a field of melting daisies, intoxicated with the rays. like always, i want to be anywhere else but where i am. if each of us is to have their own pardaox, i think that would be mine
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what's with this summer? seriously.
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