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Burning in what seems an eternal lamplight--on October 22 the moth will turn to dust, and with the wind, will fly again.
Harvey's words droned on as I sat there, half-listening. The unnatural warmth of the lamp distracting me, attracting me, in ways I could never understand. Soon I would no longer bear his words and would plunge myself face first into the beautiful light, fluttering about it. Casey Safety would soon be spelled, "M-O-T-H".
You finish that pig yet? Want to see :)
Yo, youve checked out Starcraft 2? Gonna rock!
hi casey, im in the city now, thought I might find you, TF2 is the shit
comment comment comment. hopefully you have found the bank.
