If you want to call this art, you've got
the benefit of all my doubts


Oil SpillOil SpillOil Spill
Excuse me but do you mind if I speak for myself for a while Do you mind letting me explain my messy internal term oil
Baby's got a secret, but she doesn't dare tell a soul Baby feels wrong, from the hearts she's stole baby's got a guilty pleasure and a heavy heart baby wants to rewind the world and finish at the start
There was a magical place, that she promised to take you, With a smile and a hop out the window, away she flew you watched her soar through an overcast starless sky but you just couldn't, and wouldn't remember how to fly
Oh my
Fallen

FacesFacesFaces
A (very) short fiction story written by Mya Hardman © 2004
I've only ever loved three men in my short life. Of course there has been infatuations and sheer lusts, but love? Only three;
NEIL, now he was something so inexplicitly useless and so beautiful. We could lose ourselves in a cloud of sex and dreams, carelessly throwing away our friends and responsibilities.
Money was never an issue. Just go. If we were broke, we would walk. If our feet got tired we would jump a freight train. NEIL was someone who could take me out of my mind, someone I could run away with.

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I officially need to do more art.
None other than a miniature Obis! The Greg version! I'm commenting just because I can. And as to how I got your DA name, it's not exactly a long story, but one that I'm too lazy to tell right now. I think your pictures are pritty, and that you should end up posting more. Look at my stuff, it should be amusing. And would it be bad to ask you to look at my stuff?
This has gone on too long. See ya Mya!
Dude, you totally signed up for a DA account on my birthday. HIGH FIVE.
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j d09
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because I can!
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