"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)
Tuesday, June 12, 2012
i am nobodies favorite person
I wish I was... but nobody will ever love me like I loved them.
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