Thisplaceis no longer appropriate for me to voice my personal thoughts and feelings. It's as blank and faceless as the swirling void of depression that won't leave me the fuck alone.
Not like you read it anyway.
I can't go on
You said my head's too heavy
I need that song
Those trusty chords can pull me through
...
I can't go on
Theselimbs have grown to heavy
I need that song
A night on earth could pull me through
What's wrong with me?
Not like you read it anyway.
I can't go on
You said my head's too heavy
I need that song
Those trusty chords can pull me through
...
I can't go on
Theselimbs have grown to heavy
I need that song
A night on earth could pull me through
What's wrong with me?
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Vogue because sometimes I buy the triple-thick seasonal issues, and this one had Kirstin Dunst on the cover in Renaissance clothing.