

.+.Ode to Emo.+..+. Ode to Emo .+. Of course I believe you, dear. Those scratches along your wrists? The ones that aren't deep enough to bleed? I mean... I know, dear, I know. You say your suffering builds. And claws your bruised and oh so battered soul. What's that, you say, dear? You've failed at life! Tragic! And you don't fit in? Horrendous. Dear, you'll find comfort away from The black hair swept across your forehead And thick black-rimmed glasses Through which you see your world fall apart at the seams. The beaten up shoes that you've walked through ha.+.Ode to Emo.+.


Catushkoti[repeat]Eternal eternal eternal eternal eternal [/] Enter Drums. 'Eternal fades into inarticulate echo*Catushkoti
Enter Guitar.
Do you remember when When we first spoke when When we first met when When we first saw ourselves
Dancing in each other's eyes..
Can you still feel that That hand around your waist that That cheek-to-cheek, face-to-face that That first dance, tears/steps/lips
Dancing in each others arms..
What has not come What has What will, in time Float with me, through this stream Live our liv


Self.Prologue. So I'm in the shower. I'm in the shower, it's one pee em (the thirteenth hour), and I'm thinking. Supposing opposing souls, the price of peace, the philosophical faux pas of generalisation. All the usual abstract self-analytical bullshit that pseudo-intellectuals think away to themselves so they have the (false) comfort of knowing they're still alive inside. I'm considering cloning and courting the concept of consciousness as something special and soulful, and I realise. Lacking cognition is a concept beyond comprehension, yet is the most terrifying concept -- but every dSelf
--
**************************
FINE!!!! I admit it.. last night....I stole Thursday. ಠ_ಠ
--
Beware the kitty girl with the sharp, shiny, pointy object.
not in a creepy way.
--
I have powers pinto beans can only dream of!
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