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The idea is approximate Worst

Rather than smoking cigarette on cigarette, I find the path of poetry to change the spleen in multicolored butterflies and too bad if the moth dies soon, another will take its place.
Sometimes it's all a matter of patience.

A teddy bear, brown faded on the corner of the pink bed.
I finally feel much in common with this plush threadbare. If I bear, I put out a costume for this excess, giant teddy bear version, so we better see how I am, the scream, and really do not see me for that, but for they see me better, even if I dream mouse to move between the cracks of any kind.
Find a seamstress that can create me an outfit of wolf or bear, just fluffy that I'm dying of heat below, in full sun, and I remember the heat bothers me.
I go out the hand of the mitten brown and threadbare and I'll tend just to say hello, and when you go back and tighten it, you will reduce the moisture one step, with a grimace of disgust. People do not like the humidity. The good people hide behind this disgust a nice healthy smile but their thoughts are like soap bubbles that could burst at needle-pricks.

Earlier, you I do not know, you told me you hesitated, you hesitated between two options in the perception you had of me, and you're asked if I was a engineering missed or retarded teenager, and you wonder if I'm not saying certain things on purpose because finally, I am perhaps masochistic, e maybe I like the danger, or perhaps that I I love you spits.
I sew my life as a thousand skits absurd and sad, and terrible, and especially terrible, the terrible, I still want more, then that scares me, and really scared.
And someone so ridiculously proud of myself that does not admit these things. But the fear is perhaps what one seeks, in the depths of us. Perhaps by attending the fear, it tames it and maybe then we will have less fear. Do not serve target. Against terror, feet in the mud.
And I answered you with that smile of retarded teenager, my child's smile that you do not guess, you had to choose the second option, and I answered that you'd better to remember that nothing lasts forever, except ideas, because love thy neighbor, love for your companion, your companion, will wither as and when, and your friends will eventually t ' forget, and your parents love you because it's like that, and what matters is the ideas, because a good and beautiful idea lasts well over two seconds. The
moment. The rest is a memory in the memory.
Have I ever said I did not want a pretty lace and pretty pearls? Me, I want this slaughtered animal whose remains smokes. An animal slaughtered and sacrificial lamb, so that someone up there, where it is, the Father Creator or Pan gives me panic, forgive me for ever to have destroyed the dawn. The first dawn of my life.
I am preparing for the worst smile if ever I'm wrong, I am preparing for the worst.
Always rub with fear, and worse. And even if you bleed so much that we abandon all our strength.
That's how it should be. Always. It should always bleed, and be in constant pain. As the nun in purgatory.

Cute Rabbit Hutch Plans

My

And that night, and I try to write this game which is to write without nets, to catch all the words that fall, that have blown my brain, I guess rats because he seems to have dreamed of rats that night, but finally they were real, they ran through the attic or roof, I raised the nose of my book and I wondered what would happen if they ever nibbled walls, they will make a hole, all stacked on each other, living mountain and quivering, and one day when entering my room I crushed one under my boot, one that was torn from his mountain of flesh, as it ventured just to see the world, I would say he did not have to be there, maybe that's what I say their legs at night are falling like rain on a glass or water in the gutter, but it is not water, it's them, and after having chewed the walls, they will eat a man, the first coming, the first man, and one of them Lovera in his stomach, and another forced into his mouth, rubbing his fur on the teeth, tongue, sharpening his claws on the palate and it will become the empty socket, he devoured the eye, the place was conquered. One of the rats climbed onto my bed and told me he was sorry if he sometimes gets nasty, and I'm sorry if sometimes I'm naughty but then I may lie, but you do not care and I too.

I remember one day be out in the snow with his hands in pockets to forget that I had a stomach ache to strength not to cry, because I happen not to scream. I'm wearing a monster skin and sometimes people laugh, I do not see what's so funny in there, because my skin is at least as good as theirs. So yes, I do not know how, I do not even have driver's license, because the only time I drove, I reversed the car into a ditch, and then, I do not know how to properly dishes, because I broke a glass every time, and I do not even know politely bored because if I'm bored, I drew a mustache under a gentleman nose, and I will do so if it was you who bore me and then I'd rudely. I can not write properly, because it seems that I take illegal substances to write (and this is a serious insult to my stupidity), and then I'm selfish because I smoke and I leave this world before you but postponed my suicide does not mean that I do not like you, and I'm nasty because I do not know the answer to kindness, and sometimes I want that people, when it happens to them, are less kind to me because after they invariably think that I do not care about them, but it's just that I'm disabled and paralyzed face kindness, I am a bear, so I have a nervous gesture, and I close my eyes, very strong, often, it explains the wrinkles between my eyebrows. That hunger and denial. Here, we do stupid things that we get the greatest pride, it keeps track of it and was told we were crazy and we must never do it again, so will save the world tomorrow, and then it makes things a little less fun but are silent in a last burst of assault and was the time when we no longer felt he had much and reactivate it and I stopped at the first pain and the astonishment that followed and I'm sorry I forgot the taste pancakes Grandma.
Tomorrow night, midnight, two hours of the morning, the rats walk again in the attic and roof is a black mass and informs, it spits in the hole, she curls up in your stomach and orbits.