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with the breeze
one day, someone on facebook had a birthday.

someone in real life noticed this and decided to write a birthday greeting on a wall. "happy birthday," he wrote, attaching a paragraph-long message.
A slight whiff still lingered in the air. The unmistakable, addictive, aroma of gasoline - petrol! He must remember to call it petrol now. It was these types of colloquialisms, along with his other American idiosyncrasies, that could give everything away. Maths not math. Boot not Trunk. And silencer(more)
Between the cost of the hotel and the gasoline, was the gig even worth it? This was not a question Betsy ever asked. Shows were life.

"I'll take it, Stevie." That's all she said. Steven Little was her agent, and older than she was. "Give it ta me,(more)
Muddy trunks and a sky as delicate as piano notes hugged the convulsing flames. Everything looked like stop motion. The gas was therapeutic, she could command her ghosts into the heat, then put them to bed.

This was the last step in 10,000. Her parents died, her ca(more)
dad's garage
changed a lot since mom left
he keeps old furniture in there now
spiders live in the old armchair that was mom's
tools that are no longer used rust away
and open containers of gasoline stain the old rug (more)
anyone who has to order the suppression of different opinions to get the masses to pay attention.

it's said that if you don't have haters, you're doing something wrong
somehow in the way
that he walks, his shoes can speak
of truth and freedom.

sometimes it's as if
those pressed trousers of his have (more)
He is unreliable and he did leave. Timothy cursed living in this decade. He hated Bob Dylan and the rest of them for framing "Rolling Stones" with, that, caricature. You must be uncommitted because you're free. The tragedy had been glazed over.
“I’m a rolling stone all alone and lost” Hank Williams admitted through the beatup Chevy’s radio as Killer Clyde drove towards the most notorious Street in New Orleans. Money was on his mind til’ he saw her standing on the side of the road. Her fluorescent sunglasses and short(more)
You had me breathless from the beginning. The way your deep blue eye's pierced into the depths of my very being sent a chill down my spine the moment I saw your face. You saw me for who I was the instant we locked eyes. You were the one.(more)
Candy-red lips soaked in sangria,
The Bloodletting Bitch with bumblebee hair.
She bristled alive, frost in her eyes,
Caught a glimpse of her lies with my own silver eyes.
Sapphire emeralds with pewter and jet,
A throwing of magic and throne of the wise, (more)
i get breathless from
a lot of things.
running (wow that wears me out)
walking (yeah maybe i should exercise more)
sitting down (okay now it's getting embarrassing)
laughing (this is my favorite) (more)
It was at a certain time,
when the uncertain became concrete,
set in stone and engraved around a woman's neck.
It's good that some things don't have sentience.

I imagine life as a dog toy would be traumatizing, especially when I see "dead rabbit" has reemerged from the shallow grave our dog has buried him in, covered in pieces of dead grass, dirt and leaf matter. He probabl(more)
Gotou stood over the kitchen sink, head tilted forward and a towel pressed to his nose to stifle the bleeding. It didn't feel like his nose was broken, thank god, but DAMN that had rattled his brain about but good. He glanced over to Masayoshi, who was hovering guiltily(more)