you must be ordinary, plain as dirt.
You may not bloom, nor blossom; if I see any slightest sign of you spreading your wings/petals in glory and joy and the warming sun, I will smash you into the mud.
Why? Because I can.
Why? Because I hate you - I hate your joy, your unfettered, open nature, your capacity to run freely and play.
Saturday, April 25, 2009
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