All that drew me to create, to take from the void something resembling form, however crude, no longer exists. Or so it seems. Rather, I swim in this morass of similarity, this crock of mediocrity, but it seems rather like treading water than anything else. Winding through the fragments of someone else's dream, sifting through the ashes of other's creativity, I don't think I could find a more lonesome task.
So, if I've failed to comment on your pieces or thanked you for your patronage: forgive me. My faith in the light swinging at the end of the tunnel disallows me from being social.
Thanks. For nothing and everything.









~Fan
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The opposite of War isn't Peace, it's Creation. ~Mark, RENT
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the coolest mother fucker on the planet.
--Link--
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I live for the weekend. I live for HARDSTYLES. I live for hardstyle, baby!
--Link--
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I live for the weekend. I live for HARDSTYLES. I live for hardstyle, baby!
--Link--
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I live for the weekend. I live for HARDSTYLES. I live for hardstyle, baby!
--link--
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I live for the weekend. I live for HARDSTYLES. I live for hardstyle, baby!
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