Running account

Eleanora 2022-01-14 08:01:34

Woods faint shuffling pace himself walked

in the brook boyish pee like a king achievements obtained
are chronological dirty refrigerator cereal milk cigarette ML television program music

band members complained about cold house
band members said to go learning to drive a jet who know that this is not talking nonsense excuse

members of the band for he was disappointed with his discontent even pity him



who people are expected to live in the spotlight dressed in bright

large pores because of smoke and smoked yellow nails greasy hair

no reason no reason

perhaps he is an uncompromising choice of commercial suicide attack


may be just the day eating breakfast cereal and drink a slight odor heart unhappy



that time by dish to see him last concert

of his lips close to the mike

Was the candlelight on the small stage with a sloppy sweater draped in his own hand?



At that time we were in the remedial class and on the way home, it was freezing cold and would blindly worship him,

those roaring chants, casually leave them alone The hair behind the ear and the daughter’s comfortable yawn are synchronized. After

these dreams, these grievances are not lost in time, and they are pan-acid and despise which mathematics has hit more than 130.

Then the mathematics paper with a score of less than 150 points is white. The boy



just likes Gus Van. San’s long shots

dragged and dragged, and there was no twists and turns, and I reached the edge of the cliff.

I saw him on the floor. His routine police report on TV.


This is the life of a running account. It has

nothing to do with others.

When he is a stranger or the Curt who hums "my girl, my girl, don't lie to me.tell me where did u sleep last night" are trivial details

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Last Days quotes

  • Blake: You know, it's kinda like... Success is subjective, you know. It could be an opinion.

  • Record Executive: Have you uh, talked to your daughter? Hmm.

    Blake: Hmm. Yeah I've been talking to her on the phone.

    Record Executive: What do you say to her?

    Blake: Hmm-mm. I do the voices she likes. I don't know. I tell her I miss her.