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Under the trigger-
we push ourselves away.

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Friday, July 28, 2006


Tragedies plaguing me solemnly, situations from dark now change to gray. Disregarding my absence of memories, It's perpetually blinding me of sanity. Fate seems to recreate, I just can not escape, /
Can I have a little piece of heaven?
There's something in the way you look at me. As I keep my hands open, I'm hoping your heart opens.


'nothingissound