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It shines like destruction

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Oct. 25th, 2007 | 08:43 pm
mood: crazycrazy
music: Rock and roll suicide

Violated survival list #5.

Texted me today...all torn up, again.

Hows the comfortable, although passionless life in Bretwood? Me? Alone, thanks, fighting the city. Glad to hear your getting clarity. Miss me? Is that what this feeling is? Doesn't seem strong enough.

Here's wishing for you a cosmic spear in the gut, a complete and jagged rip in your heart, the overwhelming sadness of spirit. Kinda like the one I got. Kinda like the one you continue to give me. We fucked up and became of God. We united into one.

I don't know what the fuck I'm supposed to do with you...the strength of this feeling that you and I fit, that it seems so obvious, that I vibe you; know when your in close proximity, know when your going to call, know what you're going to say, know what your thinking. I feel you in my mind, in my subconscious, I talk to you when I'm sleeping and I can feel that you hear me. I know your doing it too. I feel you in my skin, in my body, walking around in my thoughts. How can any of this be real? I'm losing my fucking mind. This psychic shit has to stop...

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Comments {1}

Cenobiteme

(no subject)

from: satansmonkey
date: Oct. 26th, 2007 08:17 pm (UTC)
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I'm sure he's hurting too, it's never a one way street. This to shall pass, I know how much it hurts. It feels like someone just put out a cigarette on your heart. Keep your chin up.

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