Be careful what you wish for, because it usually ends in tears. I would prefer carnal savagery to this wounded thing I see before me. This thing I used to love...
Hermit. Loudmouth. Secret poet. Confirmed bachelorette. Shit-talker extraordinaire. Owner of a brain with sound synesthesia.
This is a free association brain barf journal. Read at your own risk. Or mine, rather.
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