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The only thing you gave me, was the gift, of missing you, jaja. underneath the stars
I'll wait for you darling.

I can practise day by day, my magic tricks, just to see you smile.
Strum my guitar, sing out loud to you, just to keep you entertained.
Go around the world, if i'm rich, to get you all the things that you like.
Even let you go, seeing you leave, for you to be with some other guy.
The only thing that I CANT, is to see you SAD.
But for a man who loves that girl, it's hard not to be jealous as she gives no certain answers.
...
He's in doubt.
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Saturday, June 7, 2008
12:23 AM

remember remember, the fifth of november
the gunpower treason and plot.
i know of no reason why the gunpowder treason
should ever be forgot.

We were told to remember the idea and not the man, because a man can fail. He can be caught, can be killed and forgotten. But 400 years later, the idea can still change the world. But you cannot kiss and idea, cannot touch it or hold it. Ideas do not bleed, they do not feel pain. They, do not love. And it is not the idea that one miss, it is the man.

we are all to blame, in this prove. that with devotion's visage and pious action we do sugar o'er the devil himself.

who is the form, following the function of what. lieu, sobriquet,

In view, a humble vaudellivian veteran, cast vicariously as both victim and villian by the vicissitudes of fate. This visage, no mere veneer of vanity but a vestige of the vox populi, now vacant, vanished. However this valorous visitation of a bygone vexation stands vivified and has vowed to vanguish these venal and virulent vermin vanguarding vice and vouchsafing the violently vicious and varocious violation of voilation.

The only verdict is vegeance, a vendetta held in a votive not in a vain, for the values and veracity of such shall one day vindicate the vigiland and virtous. Verily, this vichyssoise of verbiage veers most verbose.


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