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this loneliness, i can’t explain.
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Images of broken light which
dance before me like a million eyes
That call me on and on across the universe
Thoughts meander like a
restless wind inside a letter box
they tumble blindly as
they make their way across the universe.
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I am to be broken. I am to be derided all my life. I am to be cast up and down among these men and women, with their twitching faces, with their lying tongues, like a cork on a rough sea. Like a ribbon of weed I am flung far every time the door opens.
— Virginia Woolf
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i want to make a move. make a move from this shit hole.
i cant imagine life in a different house other this house. this house in which we made our home. this home in which we grew up in. this home in which we leave memories behind in. fuck. i’d rather start a new life in a different country than a house just a street away.
we dont wanna demolish this home. pretty please.
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beer, cigs and a whole load of crap(=
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see you soon on the other side, gramps.
