poetic dignificant.

craps. i sank, deep, into the harsh wooden chair. it hurts (not really actually. being dramatic as usual), but it's best to none. before a possible fracture i.. ran these fingers through the thick volume of page say 306? hell. yeah. Susan Lewis. it is tempting i tell you. whilst i glass the pre-adolescents, slurring words into obscure commas. as if ten minutes to hell brings no lithe a danger. but danger, danger is in comatose. answers were penned blue and minutes of the finale caught me a francophile. Lucas Scott i miss!
out of a storm, these thoughts hassled pass me. i think its true. THEY will never be satisfied. just like the boys who goes around acting infidelity with others when they've got one standing right next to them. and you're never 100% proud of what you have, not until its gone, vanished, evaporated. sometimes i just wish life would just end in a split second, so theres no space for me to think. but of course its just a wishful thinking out of random thoughts. because weather you realize it or not, you tend to always wish for the impossible.

everybody's got their own dirty little secrets.