05.09.20 (5:25 p.m.) Writing… I have nothing to say… Imi este scarba… “Surprised I’m still allowed to have a face” ~ Only to be used though. I don’t want to let them see. I don’t want to let them see. I don’t want to let them see. I’m ashamed to say, but everything I do is still (in vain) nothing more but a waste of time. I hardly ever think my thoughts (Protection) and Action ~ Nonaction ~ Reaction isms only seem to “work around the clock” ~ for the Benders. Piles of keywords and lies… Going strong… getting lost… Morphing faces… No friend… Used in memories, as they happened… Why do I write all this? I don’t know. The things I’d rather write about… My own thoughts lanes and landscapes… Hidden… Protection (song & lyrics). Fasting day today… Null encouragements, no offence. Petrified 2 what “they” (planned 2?) show me through my senses. How disgusting. I don’t wanna be here… Not like this. Murmured hiss… Life hurts without a heartfelt kiss… Fleur de lis was not meant 2 be drawn in blood.

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