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"i haven't decided if my words are just gonna blacken and fray the edge of a torn up napkin in the back booth of a dimly-lit cafe or if they're gonna be carved out on the far corner of a kid's arm someday.
i don't know if i mean anything but that's okay. . .
i hope it's okay. . .
is it okay?
what could i possibly say when minds like mine are a dime a dozen, a dime a dozen?
my mouth is full of crushed paper and words my dreams creak when they're padding across the hard-wood floors of my head. . .
cause people like me are a dime a dozen. . .
please, tell me i'm worth it. . ."
A Dime A Dozen, Elliott.
. . .
I don't really think anybody's gonna see this, but on the off-chance that you do, hi! My name is Elliott. I'm an introverted tragedy still hoping that my chemical romance is gonna reunite in 2019, I down black coffee like it's my only incentive to get up in the morning and let's face it; it is and I hope you'll like this book. The song at the top is my favorite at the moment; I've been listening to it for hours on end. Hours.