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real_me_154
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Name: I LOVE SEAN FARIS!!! Gender: Female
Interests: I like to listen to alternative rock. Some times I listen to pop or rap but only if I'm really bored or the song is really good. I watch tv and go movies a lot and I really like to act. LOVE LED ZEPPELIN!!! LOVE IRON BUTTERFLY!!! IN-A-GADDA-DA-VIDA IS AMAZING!!!
Message: message me
Member Since:
10/27/2005
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Second best Panic! At The Disco song (only because Blair stole the best one... jk... she just used it first)
Best part... "There are no... raindrops on roses and girls in white dresses Its sleeping with roaches and taking best guesses, at the shade of the sheets and before all the stains and a few more of your least favorite things!"
Build God, Then We'll Talk - Panic! At the Disco
It's these substandard motels on the (lalalalala) corner of 4th and Freemont Street Appealing only because they are just that un-appealing Any practiced catholic would cross themselves upon entering The rooms have a hint of asbestos and maybe just dash a of formaldehyde And the habit of decomposing right before your very (lalalala) eyes.
Along with the people inside What a wonderful caricature of intimacy Inside, what a wonderful caricature of intimacy
Tonight tennants range from: a lawyer and a virgin Accessorizing with a rosary tucked inside her lingerie She's getting a job at the firm come Monday The Mrs. will stay with the cheating attorney Moonlighting aside, she really needs his money Oh what a wonderful caricature of intimacy
Yeah (Yeah)
And not to mention the constable and his proposition for that "virgin" Yes, the one the lawyer met with on "strictly business" as he said to the Mrs. Well only hours before After he had left, as she was fixing her face in a compact There was a terrible crash (There was a terrible crash) Between her and the badge She spilled her purse and her bag, and held a "purse" of a different kind
Along with the people inside What a wonderful caricature of intimacy Inside, what a wonderful caricature of intimacy
There are no... raindrops on roses and girls in white dresses Its sleeping with roaches and taking best guesses, at the shade of the sheets and before all the stains and a few more of your least favorite things
Raindrops on roses and girls in white dresses and it's sleeping with roaches and taking best guesses at the shade of the sheets and before all the stains And a few more of your least favorite things.
Inside, what a wonderful caricature of intimacy Inside, what a wonderful caricature of intimacy
Raindrops on roses and girls in white dresses And sleeping with roaches and taking best guesses at the shade of the sheets and before all the stains And a few more of your least favorite things
Raindrops on roses and the girls in white dresses And the sleeping with the roaches and the taking best guesses at the shade of the sheets before all the stains And a few more of your least favorite things
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|  | Currently Listening Led Zeppelin IV (aka ZOSO) By Led Zeppelin Stairway to Heaven... (I havent listened to it in a really long time and it sounds GREAT on my dads record player!) see related |
Life, a mystery to us all. Why are we? What are we? How are we here? Who are you? Who am I? No one knows the true answers. But more mysterious than Life, is Death. If we are meant to live, why do we die? Death makes no since. It brings sorrow, yet it is sweet and kind. It takes away the sick, ends their pain. It takes away the old to make room for the new. Death experiments on people, uses them like rats. When their time has come death come and steals the breath. It blows out the candle. Turns out the light. Take the day, turn it to night. It’s cruel, and kind, and taunting. Like a black cat haunting you most vivid dreams. It cripples you and crushes you. Tortures and hushes you. Until you speak no more. It comes knocking at your door making you no more. So the question should not be who created Life. It should be who created Death. Who decided to steal the breath. Because the question: “Who created Life?” has been put to the test. The one who created Life was the one named Death. | | |
| I have missed you. I will miss you. I do miss you. I always have and I always will. You were the earth, and the moon, and the stars to me. You were the heaven and the earth of my world. You were me. Not just a part of me. You were me. We were one. We were whole. But now you’re gone and I’m cold as ice. I’m empty inside. It’s a vast space. It’s abiss. Nothing more. Nothing less. Just space. I never thought our bond would break. Our souls would part. We would split in two. You broke the bond. You tore away. You stabbed me in the heart. You blew it so don’t come crawling back to me. For since we were one I couldn’t stand being two. I didn’t know who I was anymore. You knew that. You shaped me. You molded me. You made me into what you wanted. But I refuse to be you. I refuse to be any one but me. Now that I know. I never knew who I truly was until you left me. Hurt me. Killed me. You thought you had trained me but I rebelled. I saw you for what you were. And that is your fault. I saw you for who you were because you left me, because you betrayed me. You made me into who you wanted. But I refuse to be who you are, who you wanted me to be. I will never be you. Not again. I can’t be you. I can’t be as cruel as you. I can’t be as manipulative as you. You are what I say you are. Not because I shaped you, but because you shaped yourself. You did this to yourself and you didn’t like it. So why should I? Why should I like it if you hate it? Is it because you saw I was different? Were you jealous? Because if you knew I was different, special, then why did you change me? Why did you change me? | | |
| I wish for a pony. I wish for a dog. I wish for a friend. I wish for a family. I wish for a fiend. I wish for a cat. I wish for an egg. I wish for food. I wish for clothes. I wish for love. I wish for a life. I wish for hope. I wish for a brother. I wish for spring. I wish for fall. I wish for sorrow. I wish for death. I wish for health. What don’t we wish for? The things we already have. Why do we need to have everything? Because even if we had everything in, on, around, near the earth, we still wouldn’t be happy. We would want more. We would find more to want. We would want knowledge of aliens. Then we would want an alien. Why do we care? Why can’t we be happy with what we have? It’s sad and it’s strange. It’s cruel and it’s kind. It makes us think, I guess, of what we have. But not in the way we should. We see what we have and we think it’s worthless. We see what we don’t have and think it’s a precious jewel. Why do we do it? There is an expression: “We always want what we don’t have.” Well, what genius thought up that? Who first realized it? Or did they create it? | | |
| AHHH!!! today i got the led zeppelin 1 cd!!!
it...
is...
amazing!!!
I love it!!!
i also got fleetwood mac.
it's not as good but it has landslide on it. | | |
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