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[Sep. 24th, 2014|01:48 am] |
pisi mani nekrofīl nebūšu es rīt vairs dzīvs ja es tomēr būšu dzīvs esmu es no grupas līvi |
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[Sep. 24th, 2014|11:32 am] |
Lo! A fork appears in the road. One path will lead you to being high strung, constipated, sleepless, and likely dead from a self-inflicted gunshot wound to the head. The other path lets you be an idiot. Not malignant, just ignorant of details as they are prescribed to the adult world; wandering in a haze, but not wanting of sensation; bearing a certain profundity of giddiness. Which one sounds better to you? Well let's see. We definitely need the smart suicidal constipates, because without them our life would be that much harder. So let me be a puddingdrome, minimally suffering like a drop of water in a flood. Learning is fun UP TO A POINT. After that your brain goes into omni-bullshit mode and you fry in your own glycerin. Please put ketchup on my grave. |
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[Sep. 24th, 2014|12:07 pm] |
[ | music |
| | HIM - Poison girl | ] | You could beat the piss out of your kid when it develops a persona of its own, deviating from your will ever so slightly due to no longer being an inert mewling blob. Or you could put it to a cheese grater when still a fetus. You tell ME which is more fucking merciful. (No mercy? You're next!) |
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