What then will let you down as a love of facebook. I dedicate status and marble.
If all this still made sense or had sex and sperm and sweat and all the rawness of a murder consumed and worn soles that decompose around.
Tell me more about your new love I have open ears and no heart. Maybe then answer the phone that are on the highway. You promised me and promoted. Prometheus and the fire that falls from my eyes and I burn the white t-shirt like all that you are not and do not know. Then the trumpets
breath while I can not breathe anymore. I sleep fifteen hours a day and all the shit and I am easily tell which is always an act of platonic love. Comemai. Maybe it's time to swallow the batteries of our cell phones in protest for all that you've brought your head to my head.
you that you have eaten my personal plural pronouns. For me to close the shop and let me be the animal they are and sleep during your emotional speeches that would be enough to tell me,
I have not the time to care for them, or tell you that I am here
.
Go to war and procreate.
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