Hudblack: Humming the harmonics, the words of things. Every letter has a sound. When I say nothing you can't hear it, but you can feel it's silence. The want of what i feel. The temperature that goes up and down every time my thoughts are written on flat, wood-based paper. Or digital texts which seem to be similar. But aren't the same as hand written notes... |
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Hope all is well. Hope you found work. Sorry I was unable to help you. The many people I helped in there careers would not return the favor. The best to you and your family. KEEP WRITING IT"S YOUR GIFT. Jax - | ||
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Hudblack: Something i wish for: Some of the pretty Little things A place to be laughing Where little lips should be Red bars and yellow swings Pretty and wild The flowers only Small faces seem to see When playing... |
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was the Dandelion Loving it more when it went to seed. - | ||
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Hudblack: Sun burnt lips As they get When always looking up Lips kiss Eyes still open He kisses Lips puckered up |
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Hudblack: Where is the edit profile tab? It sure shouldn't be so difficult... |
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