(diaryland) March 14, 2001 - 12:55:09

Here is a poem.

biscuits ahoy

we used to have spit through our

hair together
but now you smell like any flower.

you ran away with the one you liked best anyway.
i ran away with the girl with the moustache.

i miss the checkered op-shop
and the stains
and the jewellry stand.

Arg. Fuck this. But seriously, here's some more pictures.

http://www.geocities.com/wundertaste/birds.gif
http://www.geocities.com/wundertaste/theatre.gif
http://www.geocities.com/wundertaste/poo.gif
http://www.geocities.com/wundertaste/night.gif