The mundacity of the grass is what feeds us, yet it is that same drizzling acceptance on the muzzle of gluttony that eventually causes us to wretch one last time and meet the earth that spat us up into existence.
I really wish people would realize that they fit people archetypes and change. Like, seriously, we don't need more of you.
I kind of hate everything right now. For one reason or another. I can't seem to keep myself content with anything at the moment.
Fuck my life.
Crying cause he wants to,
-Marcus ♥
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