an evening with a 1911.
i figured, "i'd fall in love" all over again.
twice. to the ground she came crashing.
for a moment, i became an artist.
crimson my color, her hair my bristles..
dry.. dirty bristles.
i painted the wall..
we painted the town..
and what happened then, can't be summed up into a word.
although.
i trybasic blueprints to a
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