December 2011
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“Silently affectionate Quiet like a baseball bat Patient as a heart attack It hit my gut like an anvil Ripping through my stomach Expanding like an ant hill Left to die like a sick dog On an expedition kill.
Everything went wrong again.”
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I WORK IN A KITCHEN AND BY DEFAULT PERIODICALLY HAVE INTENSE SEXUAL URGES. GOODNIGHT, REALITY.
Fuck my stupid iPod, Fuck iTunes and it's shitty...
endtheworldtonight:
Shoot me in the goddamn face.
Friendship.
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The tiniest amount of guest vocals.
I have wanted to kill myself a hundred times, but somehow I am still in love...
– Voltaire (via johnvondoom)
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Severing the relationship between my body and refined sugar beginning January 1st. Until then, nothing but cake.
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