York Shitty

Back in the dawning of my day, I had learned that the only thing against you, was the perfect breath of morning, that had reached out to you in the last of the day, and required the pleasant times to refurnish this aubade: mourning poem about the rising of the sun, this is my life, here lamenting the lugubrious affectations of the last supper of my life. 

Standing on the shoulders of giants, leaves me quite hot, here in the searing, scorching sun--of which I find to be most pleasurable in my sense of loneliness, and solace, as I find a way: always, a way to tear any pussy up I chose, and I actually do, my cock is huge, and I hate tiny inept white bums who think they are entitled to something, of which I cannot complain at all, in fact the only thing to do is have a way to see the entirety of the show, in face value with the time I have put forth in destroying the notion that I do not have the ability to take care of myself. I take honor in my ability to care for myself, and use the un-ageing intellect of this hedonism I choose to call my own. Love you, too. Feel free to hate on me, but I deserve more than you do now, so what do you have to say to that.