

Walk Onhis head hung low carrying the weight of the words a boulder of raw emotions. unaccustomed and ill-prepared he struggles to lift himself up, to rise up from the dirt and present himself to the critics. his face set with anger, his knuckles white with stress, he moved on. silently. quietly shouldering the load, buring the tearsWalk On
with grim determination. he pulled himself along, one foot blindly leading the other. the path, untread and unnerving. the end was not in sight, but he knew that he must go on, struggling with the darkness,
ps and sorry bout taking so long to get here and return the favor, haven't exactly been all here for the past few months. merry x-mas eve
...hope this doesnt post twice...
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god, be kind,
hand me a shovel,
and i'll dig my own grave.
--
Antiorder [dot] com
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The few remaining truths are graffiti, suicide notes,and shopping lists." -Francesca da Rimini
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DYING YOUNG IS FAR TOO BORING THESE DAYS ANYWAY.
~kandice~
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my myspace!
` you can leave me on the corner where you found me,
i'm not for sale anymore.
Peace-Out
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