are there crackly twigs of happy elements in dressing like a total hobo all layered and mixed up patterned?
need the nurse drag this needle across my arm? my achey breaky arm...i just don't think you underarm-stand...and if you jab my arm, my achey breaky arm it might blow up and bruise...LIKE IT HAS!
right now i'm tired-drunk. one of my least preferred emotional laneways. i mean, i wish i was crying litres. and one third needs to cuddle or talk or look at someone in real life. the other third, the rational-all knowing-strong-independent-practical third is squeezing eyes together and squinting tiredness away. and the last third is the dreamer.
i want to pummel myself to playdough. i'll stab myself using my own cheekbone, it's so sharp and deadly.
merry christmas to all and to all a good fight.
loopholes and cheapsouls.
;)
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