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| Breaths are heavy compared to mine. A hand to my heart provides some relief. I watch strong hands grow weak from reaching and holding. They always slip away. I convey pictures through words, but images are just a dessert for the mind. Its the sound of crickets or the smell of autumn days that stirs a warm feeling deep in my bones. Its trying to see things as a child does...a way we all lose with time. Its all the experiences I write and speak..alive in my head or in my dreams. My Havens: You can find me on the following sites: Myspace Livejournal Flickr |
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My gallery
haha jk Hopefully you'll upload something new soon
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I bought a race horse and I named him "my face" he's not very good, but imagine all the people in the stands screaming "COME ON MY FACE!"
MADLY DOING MAD ANAL PROBE OWNAGE
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