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not much of a writer, and I don't care much to be one. I obsess, I give up, I try, I sleep. who are you?
I am no Alfred Prufrock;
you were self invited to decorate my tardy brain...
The dots fall,
sepia moments undulate before my...
I watched a cloud, a...
I used to dream of mornings that are
too lost in the depths of my palms to...
When the red cloud melted last night, the sleeves...
affection sat drenched in the memories of our...
I see now, and a thousand moments after,
the joy I could have lived...
The world is a complicated, unbalanced and ruinous thing.
Life doesn't have to be.
I choose to walk a path
not riddled with time, but built by
destiny. If there is such a road,
then I shall no longer live to see
by Prophecies In Kodak