pointer

serve a sentence, asks the weary pointer and i just think: "save our souls?" "like that's not the natural condition?" "like how many rocks do you need for a typeface you'd see?" i asked you before: how do you grieve? and i still don't know - and to be honest, for once, i don't think i've ever really let anything go now, i'm asking: when were you last reduced to a desperate prayer? i will give you my answer, now oh, whoever, whichever, whatever, the name: take me, take me, and viva travesti, you know i'm shattered already: so if life is long then give it to her who deserves it other things said my strong fingers my weak wrists pan's rules...? Yesterday :: Monday, 19th October 2026