Excuse the poor capitalization and such... Just rambling right now... I need to make this into something beautiful.
it's the kind of paradox where you don't even know how to begin. there's so much information with so little importance. guilt, fear, understanding... all plagues of regret. and although you'd give anything to go back, and fix that problem that now is in your face, you have to realize that the glass box isn't ready to be broken, and you are a mime to another person's world. the best thing you can do is be expressive, interpretive, and present.
In their raw forms, all beautiful things that are man-made begin ugly.
Do I sound crazy?
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whats this talking about?
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