There was something pleasantly autumnal about the breeze today. But there was a melancholy forboding to it's murmur as well...
intoxication and misery, illusion and happiness
I am made unlike any one I have ever met; I will even venture to say that I am like no one in the whole world. I may be no better, but at least I am different. ~Rousseau
1 Comments:
this post makes me want to beat little chinese children over the head with a book of walt whitman's poetry. and i'm not really sure why.
anyways i'm so glad that you and eddy are coming tonight!!!!
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