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Monday, June 1, 2009

chocolate desks and squeeky whiteboards

[it's all your fault]
every fight.
it's all your fault.
you push me, knowing that it will eventually push me off the edge into that dark and scary place in my mind called oblivion where everything i don't want to happen, happens.


subsequent beliefs, otherwise excellent.
if you were an essay, you'd score a very high on my chart.

free-falling isn't so bad once you hit the bottom.

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