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Don't encourage anyone to do anything. Traffic is already bad.
To wallow in the absolute bottomland of feeling whilst hyperbolizing sitting and staring, that is what my Spring looks like.
With assessment questions like "Does a month have 80 days?" I'm pretty sure I have this job in the bag and that it pays in chewing tobacco.
I have an odd neurosis where in which every time I hear a fax coming in at work I assume it's a note saying, "You're not doing great."
Meaningful moments and life lessons will be added in post-production.
The warm air and bright landscape has aroused in me a sense of well being and hope. I'm retreating to the basement until it passes.
I whisper "I just want to be friends" into the darkness of a summer night as nameless bugs feel up my calf muscles.
The Lord giveth and The Lord taketh away and The Lord being occasionally overwhelmed will lose track and overlook you altogether.
And then suddenly you find yourself one day berating toast for it's inability to be a sandwich.
I love you so much that I'm willing to overlook the two black chasms in the center of your face that lead to a dank labyrinth of mucus.
Never have I looked so deep and confusedly into someone's eyes as when I've been offered a rice cake.
I'm unwilling to do much for quite a lot.
In my absence I've completely forgotten everything about Twitter except for that bit where you're constrained by a certain number of charact
I'm amazed at how frequently I have to defend logic when talking with my mother.
Sleight Of Hand Thinking: Magical Thinking for Realists
What if lascivious facial ticks were currency?
I want to make music that inspires people to listen to the music that inspired me to make music.
My goal for this month is to make all 26 versions of my younger self cry at least once. I'm pretty confident.
I regret not being a more positive influence on my life.
Uncomfortable in most settings.
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