I am the dead man. Hear my chest whisper.
"I'm so sorry..."
Ow baby! It's the time to party hardy lardy in my scars. Cut my legs open and eat the meat inside. Thank you dear. You've been touched. This isn't a story about a horse, no, it a story about a Chove. HA. Tricked ya there. I just zoned into the chalkboard. I'm sorry, "I'm so sorry..."
I'm not in the right mood. Too many things going on and I can't think. Not that this is thinking.
