"I felt like crying but nothing came out. it was just a sort of sad sickness, sick sad, when you can't feel any worse. I think you know it. I think everybody knows it now and then. but I think I have known it pretty often, too often."
— Charles Bukowski (Tales of Ordinary Madness)
Wednesday, June 20, 2007
you know what?
Fuck it all...
I will and can, do this by myself.
I don't need anyone.
p.s.
look for some poetry this upcoming weekend.
oh and don't play at being my friend when you are not even close.
Me????
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