Last night was fucked, and i kept having these dreams where i was in different places, but someone or people kept asking me for a smoke and i'd be like "sorry... i don't smoke" and they'd say "yeah right"
After reading Blake's "The marriage of heaven and hell" i am thoroughly impressed for the first time with British literature. "The proverbs of hell" are great, i recommend this work strongly, it's pretty cool
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"You are the most romantic person i know. Like... you have all these romantic ideas and ways of thinking how things should be... and it's wonderful and so you... but they just won't work ever. Sorry to burst your bubble. One day you'll meet someone who thinks the same
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