p.s. Watch "The Friends of Eddie Coyle". Oh, gritty seventies crime dramas, you give my such a raging hard-on. Tonight, like every other night, I will dream of fucking a massive pile of celluoid with my throbbing phantom cock. Thanks for reading!


victoryIn your dreams youre always walking. I know.victory
You live out past lives, glimpse the future, star in months-long surreal odysseys but one detail is always the same. You travel. You go and go until your legs ache, until your shoes have worn down. Walk until you stagger like a collapsed marionette on bloody stumps. Keep going, keep going, theres something on the other side of the rainbow waiting for you.
Once you walked with your neon checkered knee socks on a long gravel road. That was sort of painful, wasnt it?
Another time you were in those stilettos you never wear because they hurt like


annabellejuly sunset, the skys blazing pink and orange in the rearview mirror. bare toes touching the glass of the windshield safe, I know. electric blue snowball melted with marshmallow at the bottom of my styrofoam cup. i crush tiny chunks of sweetened ice between my teeth, painted sticky lips and fingers. green pasture washed in red, disconnected. anoushkas tinny through the open car doors.annabelle
feeding bashful horses through the splintered white fence. did I ever tell you I used to ride horses myself? cool ground, dirty grass-stained hands. roll one. light up. s
id

so-soOnce upon a time I traversed a road called Lakam Ha.so-so
We were wild children, us and Mister A. Sharl. We slept in green pastures and gorged ourselves on squirrel and birch root and honeysuckle. We painted our dirty faces angry with mineral and morus rubra, lost boys and girls that didnt want to be found. No peanut butter pinecones and sticky Elmers Glue fingers for us.
Catching crayfish in the shallow parts of the river, bare feet squelching satisfyingly in the cold mud. I loved that sound. The afternoon sun flickered through the trees just like manic shadow play, sending tiny shards of golden glass a
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go to hell :+
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Murphy's laws of combat...
When in doubt, empty your magazine. Ammo is cheap; your life isn't.
If at first you don't succeed, call in an air strike.
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Life's not about "what's better than..."
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Dead Squirrel Comics...You know you wanna click that. You know you wanna click that, click that.
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then, at some inevitable moment will the soul of the sufferer be dissolved, and flow forth in a dark but transparent stream, bringing all its mysteries into the daylight.
nathaniel hawthorne
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I've aged and aged since the first page.
I've lived every line that you wrote.
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