“give me a real one or i’m not playing.”
he’s not the bad penny you think he is. he didn’t, she won’t, he did, she does. he comes, she goes. but he never gave up. he’s been here for what seems like a very long time. gasping for every breath, his blood boils hot in the daylight while his burning heart pumps it around his body. fitting though they heckle him, he loves them and it’s like they can’t even see. at odds with one another, he preferred his own company a little too much, and for too long. what did that get anyone? well he can see the vines wrap themselves around him, and as much as it hurts – it cuts him off – he likes it because it sets him free
i throw myself into it. go on, try it. stop fighting it. give yourself …. to me
there’s this confirmation bias, and it’s off the scale. and if you’re versed in his scales, then how about the spectrum? that’s brought nothing but disorder to him. as though the benefit of any doubt they ever give him was taken away and rather than look in and see – they will assume the worst
everything sort of has the volume turned up to full blast – and blast, it is. what do you think he’s doing right now? if you wanted to know, you might be surprised…
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