I was trapped into a cubicle. transparant, just darkness outside. flying away...
And I smell an orange-ish thing. I close my eyes, imagine that sweet, juicy, color, shape, texture in my cheek...
But when I open my eyes, I didn't find anything. No orange-ish in the air.
...And the soul was flying away, with thousand words...
(anyway, it's written on my diary, 24 April 2006

)
Devious Comments
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'I Love You' is spelled with eight letters - so is 'bullshit'
(Anonymous)
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'I Love You' is spelled with eight letters - so is 'bullshit'
(Anonymous)
--
'I Love You' is spelled with eight letters - so is 'bullshit'
(Anonymous)
--
'I Love You' is spelled with eight letters - so is 'bullshit'
(Anonymous)
--
'I Love You' is spelled with eight letters - so is 'bullshit'
(Anonymous)
--
'I Love You' is spelled with eight letters - so is 'bullshit'
(Anonymous)
--
*I'm a pluriball-addicted*
--
"tin tin tin tin tin" [link]
--
sen de artık bir kışla hatırlanan eski yüzünle varsın
--
Plz Check Out my Gallery At [link]
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Play for me, Minstrel, my love,
play a harp, her neck is of gold,
in a dance, which covers my soul,
I'll become the mirror of my thoughts...
--
Originality is a bourgeois concept.
--
--
Play for me, Minstrel, my love,
play a harp, her neck is of gold,
in a dance, which covers my soul,
I'll become the mirror of my thoughts...
--
My wifey is ~Rad-Fad. I hate her. She's a greedy muffin thing.
--
Lucky Lucky Lucky LUCKY!
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