steping over lechers, coke sniffing junkies, in pursuit of a glass of wine or two or three. shrivled up ego on the kitchen table cutting life lines with an old college id cherished memory... a band of romantic rebels, play cat and mouse with a box wine cheap liqour breeds sickness a sickness so deep and twisted it can only be called insane happiness. and you, my little bodhisattva you can't tell me what to think! you can't tell me what to write even if i'm a balls to the wall pretentious - guy - a washed out soul who writes like a fool - guy - you can't tell me what to think! how you like me now?Birth sign: Cancer
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