Dear John,
I wern't ever one for words. Always fell out my mouth awkward, like my brain was using all its force just to move my mouth. I felt like a badly dubbed film, when behind all the bad sound effects there was something profound squeeking away. At the end of the day I learnt to speak with actions. To show beauty in what I done.
I'm sorry for the mess. my artery has started spraying...
i4M GOING HOME;
Luv, D.
x
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I posted a comment but must have done somtjhign blonde because it's disappeared.
ReplyDeleteI love the suicide notes best of all on your blog. I wonder what it says about me? I re-tweeted the link too, are you on Twitter?
And thanks for popping over to my blog.
Helena xx
My God, Can't even spell any more.
ReplyDeleteRe: Mr.Dali. He cannot be blamed for the tradgedy of his brother's degeneracy.
ReplyDeleteI have though heard some disturbing rumours about Dali which I shall be investigating.
Mr.Beckham is not dead. Nor are the others involved in your 'suicide notes'. You are clearly losing your mind.
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