

anything.I smell like Newports, Listerine, and weed.anything.
And I dont care, and its not even the cigarettes, the taste of brown cigar paper
that lingers in my throat, my eyes, my mind, that makes me not care. I just never had.
I want to be the girl in black tights, except Im not skinny enough.
Why am I writing?
Just suppose, I suppose.
Hedda Gabler was right.
Life is not worth living without your pistols in your pockets.
I need water.
Why am I writing this?
Beca


EndocitiesMake it different, take it out.Endocities
Theyre always watching you, remember that.
Being different, its bullshit, no one wants to be different, we all just want to feel
sane at one point
Of our lives that normalcy is the only route to go.
Maybe if lives werent made so meaningless, if constrictions werent purposely put there to Pull us down, maybe just maybe we could be unique.
No one is unique, just open minded.
We are all fools, because theyre always watching, remember that.
&nb


WhenHindrance beneath your eyes,When
I long for your fire,
Your touch,
The burn.
Rising from the bowels of hell, The hell in me.
The fire.
The burn.
The daft of the prospect...
Just a few steps away
Is so mind-blowing, overwhelmingly
The burn is beautiful.
And I would fancy touching it.
Air
| Hey Irene: feels like making everything look like a definition. You all probably think shes crap. Major art student, highschoolian, failure in chemistry, likes octopuses, Greek but doesn't speak it well enough to go there, another little teenager added to the masses who are considered "talented". She believes no one is truly talented (especially herself) and that we must believe we are not in order to learn one day we truly are. this concludes this totally self centered segment. |
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My Music -> [link]
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Visit my webcomic Hell Has Found Me!; A year old as of April 1!
Member of *100ThemesChallenge
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Knock a door, run--- [link]
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Knock a door, run--- [link]
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Website: [link]
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See enough horror and experience enough pain and you become separated from your self.
- ETY
An artist must create as often as possible. To cease this task is, to the soul of an artist, as ceasing to breathe.
- ETY
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je t'ai perdu [depuis!] je ne m'aime plus [depuis!] j'en suis sûr
je peux fermer la blessure
you can visit [link] for more of my artworks ...
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European capital of culture [link]
Vilnius `09
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