Pah.
I've gotten to a point where no one actually wants to fight for my love.
It's just, I've got to be the one to always make the effort for people I only half arsed care about.
Who am I kidding?
This is shit.
Waste of time.
Followers
Once, there was a man, born inside of a world made of steal and hate. He was bred on unusual social habits, mainstream entertainment and silently strict principles. Eventually, he pulled himself up, dusted himself off and moved on to form his own self. He found nice clothes, amazingly unique music, put on his fake, large glasses, started writing stories and applied bohemia to his life.
Please, join on this trail of madness.
About Me
Love.
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1 mentions:
Don't give up - if we lived in the same town I'm sure we'd be married by now. Hahah.
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