while cannon rumbled ‘geddon getting their beginning the North could not bind Southern colour that forced them on 3 of their sides lo they were winning but she conjured hesitation General unpractical Ewell to perplex on the far flank of Culps where she sent hallucination and reticules of her hex
now that Stonewall was gone backboned grey giant she cursed so hard they could not even catch the steely hooked fish that remained non-compliant vulnerable bend in the ridge like curves...
Que fais-tu des fleurs que je t'offre ? As-tu ta fête ? Où rien ne va ! Tu fais courir le temps derrière nulle part ? Tu fais semblant d'avoir oublié où veux-tu voler? Tu suis cette rue et fais le tour de l'asile. Tu frappes à la porte... tu laisses les fleurs sur la dernière marche plus haut.
she answered with speak: “on Cemetary Ridge at the far far end standing upon its hill armies are marching and will be here very soon at the crossroads a great battle Armageddon of the Grey and the Blue”
many twisted and weathered crosses scattered all the way down these old lines of ley but the superior sight of the Gettysburg witch could not be unseen in fates’ fading moonlight
I have all the essentials I need: a phone, a morning after pill, and a wig. Two of them help me put food in my stomach. The other helps me keep it down. I hope I can make it through without taking it. It’s not like I chose to be this way. Nobody can choose. If they could, many would opt out for what I have between my legs. I know I would.
It hardly counts as running away. It’s been six years since I first voted. I know I’m skinny and could pass off as a high schooler. With no where to go, the world is a dangerous place for someone like me. I enter at my own risk carrying a baseball bat. It’s the best I can do. Where I live, I can easily get a hold of something more powerful. Even so, it’s better not to cross state lines with a concealed carry. It’s not like keeping a gun in my backpack will save me from an attacker.
How do you feel attachment towards those around you? When the one’s you love talk about the evil in this world, you can’t help but be wounded. Of course, we’re not talking about you. But they are. Because of their hate, I feel no remorse. Only a will to get out.