I wanna know why my blog is written with so much fucking sentiment? I read over it and realise the embarrassment I may experience when registering as a third person.
Emotions you have shot up and exploded as the silver lining against my retina and the provocative to my tear ducts.
I welcome you home to reiterate the outdated intuition I recognise to figure out where I am, or where I stand, or where others stand around me.
You speak as a sentimental explanation of the importance to what I experience; but I struggle to decipher the mumbling that tries to suffocate any sensibility and clarity as the candid light rehearses by rebellion and freedom.
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