I can't. I couldn't.
my worlds are left reserved for future junk box.
My thought left to invade you where you can depict meanings and worthless pieces of metaphors.
These days I know, i just know I'm slowly losing my sense of self.
This is joyful. Let us rejoice in the bright light that is loss.
Just knocked down tired
and mindlessly belittling about rude blasphemy.
Can't you see.
Couldn't you just see.
There is no sense of one greater self
everyone is worse than the next
everyone is better than the next
everyone is a list waiting to be compared
I am done.
Created: Oct 21, 2010Document Media