Tuesday, May 3, 2011

"... died accidently while masturbating."

I AM WHAT I HATE:
Soap from the fat of a chemical burned crypto-fascist foaming over elbow like spit bubbles down your lips. how many ways can i talk of paper dolls before i am a twin to their brittleness? in that i concede to the admission of persona as collage. this was never meant to pander to your feigned indigence, so for now this is the last for now. these painted arrows will always be here.

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