Warm tea on an hot afternoon by the river. the heat like that of sweaty sex in stuffy small rooms in which ceiling fans don't seem to work. The sheets stain your skin and you can feel the texture of the rough knit fabric on your back for hours after
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Thoughts stream from a random garbled emotionally torn up mind. They race against each other and get mixed up and result in a entwined string as everything - the drugs, the elation, the adrenaline, the remorse, the fear, the sheer fucking sadness and the hope for a better tomorrow - all these little threads bind together and form a larger direction
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"We watched our friends grow up together We watched them as they fell... Some if them fell into Heaven Some of them fell into Hell." - The Pogues (via Garth Ennis in Hellblazer
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