Nonsense

[Noxide]

Freaky stuff.

[the_dead_man]

Freaky stuff.

I have never before lowered myself to sarcasm, so it won't start now.

hang on wth am i doing?

[Lemmings]

[Noxide]

hang on wth am i doing?

I don't know, but my brain hurts....

[the_dead_man]

I don't know, but my brain hurts....

I see...my memory races at speeds hundred degrees and my soul bleeds..devil must've planted the seed..

[Noxide]

devil must've planted the seed..

I didn't know the devil is

[James]

I have never before lowered myself to sarcasm, so it won't start now.

The memories I keep are from a time like then, I put them on paper so i can come back to them. Someday I'm hoping to close my eyes and pretend that this crumpled up paper can be perfect again,but a little piece of paper with a picture drawn, floats on down the street till the wind is gone. The memory now is like the picture was then, when the paper's crumpled up it can't be perfect again

[Lemmings]

I don't know, but my brain hurts....

that's not good

[Noxide]

The memories I keep are from a time like then, I put them on paper so i can come back to them. Someday I'm hoping to close my eyes and pretend that this crumpled up paper can be perfect again,but a little piece of paper with a picture drawn, floats on down the street till the wind is gone. The memory now is like the picture was then, when the paper's crumpled up it can't be perfect again

Ah Crap!

[the_dead_man]

The memories I keep are from a time like then, I put them on paper so i can come back to them. Someday I'm hoping to close my eyes and pretend that this crumpled up paper can be perfect again,but a little piece of paper with a picture drawn, floats on down the street till the wind is gone. The memory now is like the picture was then, when the paper's crumpled up it can't be perfect again

The memories I keep are from a time like then, I put them on paper so i can come back to them. Someday I'm hoping to close my eyes and pretend that this crumpled up paper can be perfect again,but a little piece of paper with a picture drawn, floats on down the street till the wind is gone. The memory now is like the picture was then, when the paper's crumpled up it can't be perfect again