Happy are the downtrodden.

All I was doing was trying to get home from work.

First you learn the instrument$$$ then you learn the music$$$ then you forget all that s**t and just play.

You cannot learn what you are made of if you rely on anyone or anything else to help you.

I always say$$$ better ask forgiveness than permission.

Wise? No$$$ I simply learned to think.

She kept hoping that something would happen to rescue her from her own small-scale$$$ predictable dreams.

A blush only reminds me how blood is just under the surface of everything.

It would be that time--late at night-- when your ears reach out for any sound. When you can see more with your eyes closed than open.

I want to fuck you so bad I can taste it.