Zoomerang96
ONE love, blood, life
the beginnings are always the best aren't they?
sure, later on gets pretty good too. in fact, i read somewhere that love only dies when it stops growing.
so if you have two feet, or a car that won't break down, you should be in good shape, i assume.
the funny thing about that though, is two legs aren't good enough. it takes four. so what are the odds you'll find another set of running shoes to be compatible with your own?
not good, apparently.
of course what is truly regrettable is when you do in yourself. you know, fuck things up nice and proper in order to shoot yourself not in the foot, but rather in the balls which in effect remove feelings of desire for long enough that it might just be a lifetime.
which is ofcourse is why a good deal of first, second, third, fourth, fifth, sixth, seventh, eighth, ninth, tenth, eleventh, twelfth, thirteenth, fourteenth, fifteenth, sixteenth, seventeenth, eighteenth, nineteenth, twentyth, twenty first, twenty second, twenty third, twenty fourth, twenty fifth, twenty sixth, twenty seventh, twenty eighth, twenty ninth, thirtyth, thirty first, thirty second, thirty third, thirty fourth, thirty fifth, ninety sixth occurances of "love" and their coinciding dreams end.
at least that part is nice. the ending adds much needed misery to a life that lacks any excitement or emotion whatsoever. so instead of feeling numb, you get the depression one can only purchase with their heart!
oh and, i'm drunk or something. high too, yeah. that and i um, am mad at gas prices. three good reasons why i don't have to look at this thread in the morning and go "that was hella emo".
of course i won't say hella though, as that word apparently went way with duck tales, darkwing duck and pavel bure.
sure, later on gets pretty good too. in fact, i read somewhere that love only dies when it stops growing.
so if you have two feet, or a car that won't break down, you should be in good shape, i assume.
the funny thing about that though, is two legs aren't good enough. it takes four. so what are the odds you'll find another set of running shoes to be compatible with your own?
not good, apparently.
of course what is truly regrettable is when you do in yourself. you know, fuck things up nice and proper in order to shoot yourself not in the foot, but rather in the balls which in effect remove feelings of desire for long enough that it might just be a lifetime.
which is ofcourse is why a good deal of first, second, third, fourth, fifth, sixth, seventh, eighth, ninth, tenth, eleventh, twelfth, thirteenth, fourteenth, fifteenth, sixteenth, seventeenth, eighteenth, nineteenth, twentyth, twenty first, twenty second, twenty third, twenty fourth, twenty fifth, twenty sixth, twenty seventh, twenty eighth, twenty ninth, thirtyth, thirty first, thirty second, thirty third, thirty fourth, thirty fifth, ninety sixth occurances of "love" and their coinciding dreams end.
at least that part is nice. the ending adds much needed misery to a life that lacks any excitement or emotion whatsoever. so instead of feeling numb, you get the depression one can only purchase with their heart!
oh and, i'm drunk or something. high too, yeah. that and i um, am mad at gas prices. three good reasons why i don't have to look at this thread in the morning and go "that was hella emo".
of course i won't say hella though, as that word apparently went way with duck tales, darkwing duck and pavel bure.
