...

I am no fair who dress in flair

I am a traitor of my own despair

I am no fair with the blondest hair

I am a fixation of my own affair

P o p u l u s

Some people are proud of acting based on their multiple personalities. Some are not quite complex that they imitate the well-knowns. Some, which I assume to be incapable of managing what they are gifted, are too scared stiff to show people their pieces of soul. They're great, though. They're a group of individuals who are well-skilled to hide their accent without lessen their frequencies of socializing. The phonies, I may call. Some of this group aren't capable enough that they are wrongfully accused as the shallows and being reclassified to the second group, which is... the Shallows. Some are spurn to define their selves as they are too busy sweating the macrocosms. I call them the Valorous, the Shallows, the Phonies, the Soi-disant Shallows, and the, uhm, Self-heedlesses. And now, let's meet 'em! In association of the universe, here they are... in LIFE.

Overemotional, Brainless Lyrics of the Day

"And if a double-decker bus

Crashes into us

To die by your side

Is such a heavenly way to die

And if a ten-ton truck

Kills the both of us

To die by your side

Well, the pleasure - the privilege is mine."

THERE IS A LIGHT THAT NEVER GOES OUT - THE SMITHS

We-Go-Round

I've never cried in the amusement park. I won't. I'll pinch my tongue to bleed if I do. If someone bludgeons me to choose, I'd rather die phlebotomizing, staining the merry-go-round with my blood than shedding a single tear on a Ferris wheel. It's so mal à propos. You're supposed to be happy in the amusement park or puke up your lunch on the merry-go-round or conquering acrophobia on the Ferris wheel or whatsoever. Anything but crying. You must show the kiddos how untroubled you are. That's the rule.

Sometimes

Sometimes, I live too overmannered that my sole desire is to curse unmannerly.

Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.