Direktlänk till inlägg 6 oktober 2009
Säg mig, är din hjärna så
förvriden som jag tror att den är?
Himlen var mörk
månen stod högt
alldeles ensamma, hon och jag
Hennes hår var mjukt
Hennes ögon var blå
Jag visste precis
Vad hon ville göra
Hennes hy så len
Hennes ben så vackra
Jag lät mina fingrar vandra
Längs hennes ryggrad
Jag visste inte riktigt hur
Men jag gjorde mitt bästa
Jag började med att lägga
Mina händer på hennes bröst
Minnet av min rädsla
Mitt hjärta som dunkade
Sakta särade hon
De vackra benen
Och när jag gjorde det
Fanns det ingen skam
Det kom på en gång
Den vita saften
Äntligen var jag klar
Det är över nu, äntligen
Den allra första gången
Jag mjölkade en ko.
Nåå..?
I think I need to get myself locked up. Confined to solitude. Away from this world and it's chaos. Wouldn't that be nice? ...
I can hear something lurking, dont really know what it is though. But it feels kinda desensitized, empty in some fashion. It has done for a while now, but I haven't really been able to figure out what it is yet. It feels like if I did figu...
I miss the comfort of spontaneity. Back then, nothing was impossible. And now, most of it all is. Even the most simplest of things. They can't be done, can't be implemented. It's total Bullshit,that's what I say. I hate that time has made...
Maybe you aren't there, yet you exist. The line between real and unreal isn't what it used to be. I see you everywhere, making my continuality consistant. Making my space undefendable. Making my space a viscious place. It sets me to longter...
I get put in a corner. I feel quite safe there. It overlooks the whole room, my spot. Everything seems to have a continuing calm pattern. The sounds and the movements. 15 people sitting still, 3 people moving randomly, yet not. They move ...
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