I am becoming indoctrinated in my own faults. This makes no sense.
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Posted in poetry, semantic misfires
If we are not all made of maud-mistakes and the landscapes of our soul’s Zeitgeist genes, then what are we?
If it made cents instead of sense, would you be asking this question?
i like volleyball
what do you think?
evening of whoa.
you always knew
yeah, exactly
If we are not all made of maud-mistakes and the landscapes of our soul’s Zeitgeist genes,
then what are we?
If it made cents instead of sense, would you be asking this question?
i like volleyball
what do you think?
evening of whoa.
you always knew
yeah, exactly