November 27th, 2008
So while my bones and nerves ache and twist (bones ache and nerves twist), I will be called morose, and will most likely feel so. Sticky, sweet things will alter my environment but I should have known my heart will resist alterations. My damned perceptions and deviant thoughts will remain disguised. Fuck.
Sorry. My head's not quite right yet. Why am I apologizing to you?
