You, the pretender, and I, the pretender, are together - supposedly in like. But is this suppressed affection between two pretenders pretentious too?
We're a dead end.
I can hear the scorching sun's hums of heat blister through the drums of my ears, and the smell of dry, thirsty weeds at the end of the no through road.
One of the many little lessons life has to offer us: a lot of people don't really give two shits about how your day went unless it's got juice. Ouch, isn't it?
Happiness takes quadriple the effort to satisfy; it takes disappointment the snap of two fingers to contaminate every nerve and vein in your body.
I don't need it.
ginx vicioux
We're a dead end.
I can hear the scorching sun's hums of heat blister through the drums of my ears, and the smell of dry, thirsty weeds at the end of the no through road.
One of the many little lessons life has to offer us: a lot of people don't really give two shits about how your day went unless it's got juice. Ouch, isn't it?
Happiness takes quadriple the effort to satisfy; it takes disappointment the snap of two fingers to contaminate every nerve and vein in your body.
I don't need it.
ginx vicioux
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