Oh, my T. What are you doing?
Lost it.
It isn't as if there is anything there, you know. You know. Why do you persist in making your life miserable to be a part of?
Write me a Pink Floyd lyric and tear my head apart.
Alas, my dearest Augustine. All is gone, gone, gone.
skip to main |
skip to sidebar
rant rave ramblings
perverse
what
No comments:
Post a Comment