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Tuesday, May 26, 2009


what?
Let me tell you what I think of what to say. When do we know what to say when there's no more breaths in our lungs? Can we even say or to say the least have a final thought? I doubt the fact that we know we're real. To me I just think our mind is a tricky thing because it can actually crash on us. Burned alive from the inside of our human skulls. Humans... such foolish things are called the perfect creation but this filth is nowhere close to the perfect perfection. Light at its full shine kills the life out of death and the cold light burns and only destroys tearing everything into pieces. Oh such inferior light the one so cold and bright. Let me live bright cold light let me drink the souls of the dead.
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