When my life was insane
- posipathxC: allison is obessed with him
- posipathxC: because they drunkly made out once
- tobehonestt: totally
- posipathxC: thats all
- broken jaww: yeah i was there, if by make out you mean peck at each other's faces for like 3 seconds, then yeah
- LordTerroristPPC: i think allisons in love with pat
- LordTerroristPPC: actually
- posipathxC: allison was idk if she still is
- tobehonestt: pat, cody, everyone
- broken jaww: i think allison's main problem is that she just doesn't act like she's 18
- LordTerroristPPC: lol
- mental math: she's 18?
- posipathxC: listen to shelby
- posipathxC: shreddin
- LordTerroristPPC: this turned into hate allison chat
- mental math: hm
- broken jaww: i don't hate her
- tobehonestt: freal
- mental math: that's interesting
- LordTerroristPPC: LOL
- LordTerroristPPC: DEVINS CREEPIN
- broken jaww: she just acts like the 15 year olds she hangs out with
- tobehonestt: ohhhhh
- posipathxC: WOW
- LordTerroristPPC: oh god
- LordTerroristPPC: OH GOD
- mental math: that's what I was getting at shelby
- LordTerroristPPC: pat
- LordTerroristPPC: i made this chat
- mental math: CALL OUT CENTRAL
- LordTerroristPPC: to discuss a homo
- LordTerroristPPC: and now
- broken jaww: hahaha
- mental math: CALL THE INTERWEB
- LordTerroristPPC: its turned into bitch fight
- posipathxC: i think you should fight eachother
- LordTerroristPPC: ya
- broken jaww: hahah
- tobehonestt: haha
They will always be calling you home
So perhaps I have ended the world.
And nothing will ever be the same.
That is the way of things.
Salty seas are sweeping me away.
You will always pull me home.
“The touch of his skin against hers was not a caress, but a wave of pain, it became pain by being wanted too much, by releasing in fulfillment all the past hours of desire and denial. It was an act of clenched teeth and hatred, it was the unendurable, the agony, an act of passion — the word born to mean suffering — it was the moment made of hatred, tension, pain — the moment that broke its own elements, inverted them, triumphed, swept into a denial of all suffering, into its antithesis, into ecstasy.” —The Fountainhead by Ayn Rand