Tuesday, June 17, 2003

every ligament collapses from the outside. people don't relaize the pressure skin puts on bones. it pushes against my rib cage until my heart blows out of my chest in a comical fasion. every year to the day the woodshed becomes a chambers of horrors. i never had such a muse. a luxry you are cappable of exploiting. i guess i'm not allowed to wish for greater things.

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