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December 2, 2010
Ranting.
For the past and the present, the memories still lie embodied in the fat of a baby seal.
Curse this world for the fabricated heartbeats, elaborated reasons for treasons, and the piercing spear of an unflinching man or woman who penetrates the walls of those with minds of one who came from their mother's womb so fresh--
It punctures the young seed like a fork to a piece of meat--Killing them. They create such fiction to keep themselves from falling, latching onto another to use as a host like rheum by an eye.