0
she loves me
she loves me not
she loves me
she loves me not
she loves me
she loves me not
she loves me
she loves me not
0
what sweet addiction this is... you create a world
full of little fairies with torn stockings and
jet black hair and blue eyes and red lips and
thin eyebrows and pointy nipples and fetishes
for virgins.....
dia:
haha, and then imagine if you live there. Yes Peter! You don't have to ever grow up (and I have the Tinkerbell on my leg to prove that).

Neverneverland, darling.
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Love is merely a reflection of oneself
in the object of his desire. Ones you
establish that, it is clear that I'm
deeply and madly in love with a 14th
century portrait of a young girl...
She follows me with her eyes and there
is no escape. I think she loves me too.
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my fingers still smell like her today...
i'm sitting here, sniffing them...
dia:
haha, I love that!