May 13, 2010

STILL BREATHING, STILLBORN



Something about this place hiccups a scattered "home" just before it erupts. But now it's cluttered with punk magic and palm readers who don't need to try very hard to know our future's are bleak. I guess home never really had that. I guess that I guess too much, leaving certainties few and far apart.
So here's to the nights with the Beast, you were never really wanted, just had.
(Don't feel so bad, some of my best friends were too; I still love them so.)

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