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I thought I had perfected the act of tiptoeing on glass, until now.

You can close your eyes and plug your ears but it’s there. Oh baby, it’s there, and it ain’t budging.

If you cut the phone cords, it would’ve taken me off your hand, no?

I can see it now. And to think all this time I placed my future in your hands. You would’ve smashed it to bits had I not snatched it up in time.

I don’t think I’ll ever be able to trust a person one hundred percent. I tried, truly I did, but where has that gotten me?

One taste of happiness, and I’ll let go of everything with much pleasure.

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Isn’t this the trippy-est?

Matt Bellamy is nothing short of a God on the six-string =]

Hit by a sudden bout of loneliness. Ow, it hurts.

I miss things when they weren’t this messed up. When you woke up in the morning knowing someone else was gonna make everything okay.

But it could always be worse.

Funny how 7:30 a.m. is now an ohshityouaresogonnabelate.

Back to when 95% ain’t good enough, just because someone got half a mark higher.

Back to life revolving around numbers. Specifically, fractional ones.

On that note, hope I did okay. Is 1.055 too high a molarity?

=/

Why am I doing this again?

I’mdoingthisformeI’mdoingthisformeI’mdoingthisforme.

Yes, yes I am.

Now it’s come to the point where I’ve locked 99.9% of myself up and threw the keys down the drain. What you see is like a Stepford Wife. What you see is what I want you to see, none of the dirt and none of the grime.

What, just trying to piece my life back together, is that a crime now?

Factoringsubstitutionconjugates.

Limits. Limitless.

Lytton. Manchuria. Manchukuo.

Shake me out of this lethargic reverie. Oh wait, do that after April.

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