I can see you have constructed a new light sabre, go back to Mars, take ye flask wit ye, feels so much better wit em pints, tell mom I can paddle on ma own now!


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Montag, Juli 24, 2006

death

and finally the music. every sound a wailing. another sound the crashing of the wick. time and again the spring of autumn. playing the bells lamenting. requiem.

5:32 PM