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pricessless times, valuable moments every little memory has become unspoken-of the fact of the matter is, that even on this day, boredom and hate interupts with my fate so i take my hand, clench my fist, raise it high and hit my face till i hear the sound of the bone crack blood spurting out my nose, aint no stopping to that my teeths getting weaker, falling out their place may this self torture...
http://freestylern3p.livejournal.com/1239.html
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Published: 12 months ago (Mon, 08 Dec 2008 03:44:08 PST); 1775 bytes
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