30 pounds gained.
I'm not sure how many Stone that is, and I'm not in the mood for conversions.
The future begets the downward spiral.
Snow globes do not portray a world of warmth and hearth. Black, black, black is night and ice litters the aura of my soul.
Crystalline structures of water evaporate on the surface of a heart that loves not but to lock itself away from the world.
The carcass of the snow globe rolls down a flight of steps and into the Manhattan ignorance.
24 steps to a Prelude, but the hike seems impossible when it's shrouded by Chopin's indolent horde.
I am the beast.
Ba Humbug.
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