In my mind a thought that has accrued credits earned. In fact, I knew it would be completed, was only a matter of time. Fill my head because it does not want to listen to him now. I do not have the balls to address the possible realization that this thought brings with it. The close of the countermelodies of a song by Bruno Mars. I hide behind a postcard Julian Alps. The move in the trunk along with the Ikea lights.
This post is mine and only I understand. And that's okay.
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