Being bald with just a bushy luxurious moustache is like being completely naked with just Gucci socks on.
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Being bald with just a bushy luxurious moustache is like being completely naked with just Gucci socks on.
The nights never get any easier. I suppose I have gotten better at not giving it attention when I'm awake but the terrors shake me to my core. Though a single thought remains; am I in charge of the darkness or are the shadows simply playing with me. ~John
Revolving Doors.
Sometimes when the silence fills me like a half empty glass, disgurded by the pile of dirty dishes... my eyes glue themselves to my revolver. When the damp, cold drizzle from the empty winter morning crawls it's way under my skin I remember the hollowness that resides inside me. When the immoral static metal is the only warmth around me, I remember when I kissed the barrel, caressed it, holstered it by my side day and night... I remember my love affair with death and how I wish for nothing more than her calming embrace. I am a fool for not taking her hand when she was interested me and I long for nothing more than all I gave up.
I have put two day old milk into my morning tea. Yes I knew it was over the sell by date and no I will not throw it out until I've bought new milk tonight.
What do you do with a broken heater? ~Jawn