we've unofficially been liberated from the deep dark abyss. the light at the end of the tunnel is beckoning and we're just throwing aside everything, forcefully fighting our way through the musty air to the alluring freshness. you can play all you want but the nagging guilt lingers. until the 3rd.
i want to run free. the musty air is suffocating. i want to burn every reminder of tertiary ed, revive cr9wIX so we can all dance our hearts our, i wanna watch sunset and perhaps gaze at the stars till the break of dawn. but most of all i really want hear the resounding bangs of footdrill. but intertwined in all my desires and crazy fetishes, are missionWK, rcyc and US.
It was a dark and stormy night;
the rain fell in torrents—except at occasional intervals,
when it was checked by a violent gust of wind which swept up the streets,
rattling along the housetops,
and fiercely agitating the scanty flame of the lamps that struggled against the darkness.
(Bulwer-Lytton)
the rain fell in torrents—except at occasional intervals,
when it was checked by a violent gust of wind which swept up the streets,
rattling along the housetops,
and fiercely agitating the scanty flame of the lamps that struggled against the darkness.
(Bulwer-Lytton)
even when you're lost and lonely,
and hope is gone, you're not alone.
far beyond the understanding,
there's a hand that leads, if you believe.
God Loves You, Jaci Velasquez
and hope is gone, you're not alone.
far beyond the understanding,
there's a hand that leads, if you believe.
God Loves You, Jaci Velasquez
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