His world of sense/nonsense

this blog

&Welcome to The Thrashhole.

Rules to tagging
leave a name
no spamming;
no talk bad

Disclaimer: writer
is anonying
is full of shit
talks bad of other people
scolds like mad
think of himself as a god

The writer..

NYP (Af 0601)
pangster
weirdo
exco
libra, 19
once a saint (sas)
the master of fade to black
master of the hidden face
professor of crap

past tales

meant to be shareD..

off to..

sweets.honey.baby.love.

now playing..

Tuesday, November 17, 2009 11:11 PM

Rest now young one..

batted , tired, torn and hurt..

nothing is left..

dillusional, crazy or just disfunctional..

to a point where strength cannot be controlled..

tired, wore out or nelgected

to a point where nothing has meaning or satisfaction..

emo ??

maybe...

jsut dun like the feeling..

i rather be in the embrace of your arms than just holding your hands.

things feel like they have really changed...

i feel like i have become nothing once more.

i pray that things will become better for me, for once..

hold me now at 11:11 PM
0 replies

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