booktowrite: every page is blank.

I fell in love with a dead boy but sometimes we are just a doll. Nevertheless, I believe in goddess. They don't care, so I live fast and died young... trouble loves me even though I am a new American.

I've been alone too long, so I seek your heart, your hearth and try not to let them eat war. Hey God, I don't think you exist... I am the milkman of human kindness.

The process is a strict one and so we always ride shotgun to face some incarnated solvent abuse. But, beware, hope is a dangerous little thing. so we end with fourteen fifty-nine.

Ooh la la, sometimes you have to let it slide and other times you have to ask 'what are we standing for?' I'm not immune to these requisite catastrophes.

High Achievers and my sanity lead us to miss the good things as we detect a toxic trace in the air and report to memoirs and landmines.

We all suffer from the suffering but long for the profane rights of man even though some want to display the best god in show.

Dearly Beloved,

I can't relate to you. You isolate and alien-8, can't you see that I don't care any more? Aside from that, I long for nothing that people hold dear. Best regards to those who do.

Don't riot... it never ends well, but know that peaceful assembly is the right of everyone even though the people who complain that it has been taken away in other countries support that same repression in their own countries.

Don't be a quitter. You're famous and you're rich, quit acting...