after awhile when you bounce back and forth between different hearts nothing gets old. you never really have to mean anything to anyone. i have intimacy problems with the world. her eyes are blackened around the edges so much that she looks like a racoon. they look like permenant black eyes- the consumate victim. everybody loves the victim. he can’
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i don't really understand this post,
whether its written from your point of view,
or as you being the girl.
either way,
its possibly one of the most astounding and real posts i've read on livejournal;
poetic but not to the point where the meaning is obscured, or everything is cheap metaphors.
i thought about posting a link,
but then i figured
things like this
should be private and secret
so if you stumble on it,
you feel like you really found something
something to be proud of.
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if you read it.
it's a part from a book he's writing.
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