I may be spiritually smacked in the face.


UGH.You know that feeling. Maybe you don't. But I surely do.UGH.
It's a cliche feeling. But if you think about it, all feelings are cliche. It's the butterflies in my stomach. The sinking of my throat into that butterfly filled stomach.
I can't stop thinking about him, can't give myself a chance to breathe any other sort of air that doesn't involve some whisp of him. His image is still carved solid into my eyes and it won't go away. I remember his smell, his every inch, his every curve and shape. The way he smirks instead of smiling. The way his hair falls just above his eyes.
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In the end, the ocean has it's revenge.
Whether tomorrow or one hundred years.
I takes limbs and lives, and from the the wives
an equal ocean of their fallen tears.
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PROTEST IS PATRIOTIC!!
Like to play with toys? Checkout my toy comics blog
I'm Mr. Mustachio/shunsaku ban in dA's Tezuka Crew
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The dream was always running ahead of me. To catch up, to live for a moment in unison with it, that was the miracle. (Anais Nin)
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"Character is what you are in the dark"
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Smile...It confuses people.
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