The machine, breathed to life, sputtering smoke into the lungs of all who surround her. She heaves, insides turning, and there’s peace.

The machine, breathed to life, sputtering smoke into the lungs of all who surround her. She heaves, insides turning, and there’s peace.
Recent Comments:
me.: i really miss talking you. really. i promise i’m not a scientologist; just dating one. can we please be...
sarah: by virtue of existing or by some active design?
sarah: don’t be bitter about loves that haven’t quit, man.
realy!!!: you are a worthwhile person and any bright girl would give thanks quietly, eternally, to have had you.
sarah: http://www.penny-arcade.com/co mic/2008/4/23/
sarah: happy.
sarah: this girl has made a long series of excellent life choices
sarah: you probably look like the guy from full metal jacket again.