nightcrawlergen1

Fuck if I don’t feel like I lost my mind a long way aways ago, somewhere far off and nearsided. The way my vision has always seen what was right in front of me, but not always known what it is. Life, is just a day from death and the turns of troped robes that rapped satin and silks to dissipate the contours of body...
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Ok, so the fak? You mean to tell me that we live in a society based off of a centuries old social tropes and Im expected to not call bullshit on all your tradition argument? I mean.... really? Post Hoc Ergo procter fuck yourself

They need to invent a lid that always lands topside up. They got weighted dice, the shit has to be possible and I have carpet so this is just not acceptable.

I miss the ocean, and

these land locked days have altered the gill structure in my ribs

set me to be set to drift far from the coast I call home

salt water and sand, the ambient reminder of the path in paths taken, its very soul of soundful tides and crashing potentials to curl in scape of the moon

the cradering of white wash...
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