Some mornings I think of you. Through my days, you cross my mind, sometimes gentle, sometime humorous, and sometimes painful or daunting. Once, I couldn't really do anything, because you couldn't make up your mind. Now, I can't do anything for you, because your mind is set.
look at how much mileage you guys are gettring with my perversions and sadness, my mind's a goldmine. No, you freakin hobo, I'm not hearing voices—they are trying to communicate with me through youtube, and websightes, and naughty ones, im not too sure what to do when i get riled up huah hauh hauh hauh hauh hauh hauh hahuh ahuh hauh hauh hauh hauh ahuh hahuh hauh hauh hauh hahuh
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