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jonas whitney adam kara driskill audra

 
somebody shoot me now, i shouldnt even get the privilege to feel this down.


::: posted by Eddie at 8:22 PM


 
the facade clears away and behind this sketch is a sad decrepid wall.

i remember well the artist that sketched the frame, and im glad he is still here somewhere.



::: posted by Eddie at 4:36 AM


 
my life has been but yet a blurb in the fabric of time. as i walk through this hallway - paintings hanging down this deary row - i see a sillouette; still as cold and waiting there for me. i walk toward this unknown; the pictures on the walls show my memories.... my memories?

"no - these paintings showed the scenery where we once knew one another"

his lips spilled out a chill that curled around my nerves. i didnt think it would be this cold. but when i reached him he said unto me....

"its been too long for us to be like this - too long"

why would i feel like its been my undoing?


::: posted by Eddie at 12:46 AM


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