Tuesday, December 29, 2009

OH death how I dream you. She's always there, watching me as I lose control. All day long I pop pills, until my stomach turns and I vomit. Like a baby thrown into a trash can I wiggle and eat of my garabage waiting for the loss of heaven to come and bring rise to my last days. But she's always there, she's always there. It's in this life that we find god for I don't believe he exsists in death. Death is a farewell before the stairs go black.

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