| It rises from the ashes like a phoenix.
Got sick of shunnedone. This xanga again.
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| new xanga: shunnedone.
RIP, playabovedarim. |
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| If there was ever a time that I thought I might need God, it just might be now.
Might. |
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| Yo check this out. It's hiliarious.
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| Still thou art blest, campar'd wi' me The present only toucheth thee: But, och! I backward cast my e'e. On prospects drear! An' foward, tho' I canna see, I guess an' fear!
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Robert Burns is the man.
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