So here we are again...Pink nipples and all. A man on vacation. A cancer.
I'd laugh if I had it.
Instead, I get to linger on, and fall victim to lesser crimes.
Betrayel.
Why?
The wind howls, as do I. A tornado would be nice. Lifted up, carried.
Then dashed. Ragdoll action. I open my arms.
I've been dead for years and years.
This kinda thing would only finalize it.
I may kill this blog soon, or leave it here, not sure. It started harmlessly enough, then I had to make it suck...
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