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i give the fuck up.

you ask the world of me.
you ask for the god damn fucking entire world.
and i give it to you.

i ask for a few small words that mean the entire world. and you still can't produce anything but a fucking god damn dial tone.
why do i always fucking get left feeling so incomplete?

i'm fucking exhausted, but i can't fucking sleep. BECAUSE OF YOU. because you can't stumble on a few good words to hold me over, to make me smile, to maybe make one fucking shitty day into a decent one (for once). fuck.

12:08 a.m. - 2007-11-15

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