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About

To think that I would die this time, isolated in the room where the bed rises. Photographic ordinary people are everywhere. Extraordinary histories, ordinary histories, ordinary histories... I'll find sleep, I'll find peace or in death you'll sleep with me To figure that it was my fault or so I've come to realize life is not about love with someone. Everywhere you look, everywhere you turn. Illness is watching, waiting its turn. Did I go at it wrong? Did I go intentionally to destroy me? I'm suffering in noise, I'm suffering in the burning from within the burning from with I could not be at rest, I could not be at peace.
So do yourself a good, or do yourself a death from ordinary causes.

For other sites I am on and some usernames, go to my flavors.me.
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