There is an un-easy, nauseating feeling flinging off my ribs, erupting against this intolerant flesh. I’m running on drained and that bleak red warning light is hysterically flashing. All I require is an out of gas halt; a rest stop on a solitary, vacant, dirt path to numb myself, as an old cassette player systematically serenades me while I
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i didn't call tonight (last night?) because i've been slaving away over a project. as in, it's 6:40 am and i'm just finishing up. booooooo. i'll probably talk to you today. and you and garret are really cute.
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ari
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I have a new journal (ofdancehallhips).
I miss your words. Much.
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