it is up to me. thoughts crop up simply like that. this is the raw material of it. i am done with your churning. the malevolent wishing of putting down, downgrading everything, a subtle annoyance wisping through your hair, advocating nothing, and nothingness, a lump of bruise strutting around trying to inflict and wound.
this is not to woo, this is how i operate, and you are but a spectator to all this.
perkaraperkara 