

FriendsRaymond stood at the window for over an hour, the paintings leaning against his legs. The paintings - his paintings. He felt their weight, he felt the hours of work, the hours of useless thought and reflection contained in each one. They were an anchor chained to his neck; dragging him deeper into himself, dragging him away from any paying job, dragging him away from any real fufillment of his potential. But he can't lie to himself, this is the life he wanted all along; but perhaps with cleaner and more spacious living conditions. Raymond Caprice, he reveled in every drop of paint on canvas, every speck of dirt and dust on the floor or in hisFriends


Money Raymond Caprice was sleeping. His body lay contorted on the lumpy mattress that sat on the floor in the center of his dusty, cluttered apartment. One arm dangling limply off the edge; fingertips dipping into an ashtray with a live cigarette still smoking in a noxious twisting column that rose toward the yellow-stained ceiling.Money
There was a knock at the door. The sleeper shifted his position, knocking over the ashtray and spilling exhausted cigarette butts on the floor, but his eyes remained closed. The knoc
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"I'll teach you how to jump on the wind's back, and then away we go..You just think lovely wonderful thoughts, and they lift you up in the air."
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"I'll teach you how to jump on the wind's back, and then away we go..You just think lovely wonderful thoughts, and they lift you up in the air."
Death by teacup....most definitely the way to go...
sucks to your ass-mar
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