can’t see the end

would you like to hear my voice / sprinkled with emotion / invented at your birth? / i can’t see the end of me

if i had to touch feelings / i would lose my soul / the way i do

insanely busy

today is a good day to die

talking to myself

justice to the left of me, justice to the right

The quality of mercy is not strain’d, It droppeth as the gentle rain from heaven Upon the place beneath: it is twice blest; It blesseth him that gives and him that takes: William Shakespeare [Merchant of Venice, IV. i. 184] and what is given what is taken what is left laying out in the rain [...]

saturday morning

beyond words

it’s all over now, isn’t it?

as empty as my head

nocturnal issues

note: you will either want to turn yoru speakers up, or down. me? i turn them up.

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