Monday, January 02, 2006

my blanket with me underneath

there is an empty way left today were we know
calling you frum unda da banket like it or not
wonderen thompin in the waves of realities
we cant effect sybialic associations relates
howeva lives in levels of strife w/o lite
remain insain from pain of the same
the universe expodes a few more
braincells in my hell of night
better put a sweater on
with out the 2 letters
i write my dears
what is clear
without
fear
of
1

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