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for tomorrow we shall die--

For tomorrow we shall die-. June 15, 2009 (Private). The bitterest pill of all (private). Roses are red (from the very secret diary of dorothy parker). I Hate Performers; They Raise My Blood Pressure. I hate the theatre. Love is a dirty word. June 15, 2009 (Private). When you weren't afraid to love somebody, even if you didn't know what they were thinking about you. If they were thinking about you at all. When you had faith instead of doubt. When you were happy. The bitterest pill of all (private). I don...

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for tomorrow we shall die-- | notmuchfun.livejournal.com Reviews

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For tomorrow we shall die-. June 15, 2009 (Private). The bitterest pill of all (private). Roses are red (from the very secret diary of dorothy parker). I Hate Performers; They Raise My Blood Pressure. I hate the theatre. Love is a dirty word. June 15, 2009 (Private). When you weren't afraid to love somebody, even if you didn't know what they were thinking about you. If they were thinking about you at all. When you had faith instead of doubt. When you were happy. The bitterest pill of all (private). I don...

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for tomorrow we shall die-- | notmuchfun.livejournal.com Reviews

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For tomorrow we shall die-. June 15, 2009 (Private). The bitterest pill of all (private). Roses are red (from the very secret diary of dorothy parker). I Hate Performers; They Raise My Blood Pressure. I hate the theatre. Love is a dirty word. June 15, 2009 (Private). When you weren't afraid to love somebody, even if you didn't know what they were thinking about you. If they were thinking about you at all. When you had faith instead of doubt. When you were happy. The bitterest pill of all (private). I don...

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roses are red (from the very secret diary of dorothy parker) - for tomorrow we shall die--

http://notmuchfun.livejournal.com/1186.html

For tomorrow we shall die-. Roses are red (from the very secret diary of dorothy parker). Roses are red (from the very secret diary of dorothy parker). I hate the theatre. Love is a dirty word. I feel so stupid and small around him, so young and girlish. Insecure. Vulnerable. I don't even know what it is between us, to be perfectly honest, and I don't know if I'm better off for not having a definition. It's hard to tell with him. It's hard to tell anything when you're in love with someone, I guess.

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June 15, 2009 (Private) - for tomorrow we shall die--

http://notmuchfun.livejournal.com/1842.html

For tomorrow we shall die-. June 15, 2009 (Private). June 15, 2009 (Private). I hate the theatre. Love is a dirty word. I heard the clock ticking and caught sight of it when I rolled over to kiss Scott. 11:37 am A Monday. I should have been studying my irregular verbs and working through the practice exam. Instead, I burned my tongue on a steaming cup of coffee. I learned to waltz. I fell into bed with a boy. A three-act play, each scene building to a climax. When you were happy.

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the bitterest pill of all (private) - for tomorrow we shall die--

http://notmuchfun.livejournal.com/1342.html

For tomorrow we shall die-. The bitterest pill of all (private). The bitterest pill of all (private). I hate the theatre. Love is a dirty word. Love is a dirty word. This page was loaded Apr 21st 2017, 3:22 am GMT.

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for tomorrow we shall die--

http://notmuchfun.livejournal.com/tag/take%20that

For tomorrow we shall die-. I Hate Performers; They Raise My Blood Pressure. I hate the theatre. Love is a dirty word. I Hate Performers; They Raise My Blood Pressure. Friday evening I was privileged - if you can call it that - to see a Lowood Academy performance of William Shakespeare's The Winter's Tale. As for the dramaturgy, well. This reporter has no words. I suppose I could spare a few, though; tacky, tacky, tacky. I know Perdita gives a speech about flowers, but really. I wonder how many letters t...

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for tomorrow we shall die--

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For tomorrow we shall die-. I hate the theatre. Love is a dirty word. I used to bite my nails, but I don't even do that any more. This page was loaded Apr 21st 2017, 3:22 am GMT.

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for tomorrow we shall die--

For tomorrow we shall die-. June 15, 2009 (Private). The bitterest pill of all (private). Roses are red (from the very secret diary of dorothy parker). I Hate Performers; They Raise My Blood Pressure. I hate the theatre. Love is a dirty word. June 15, 2009 (Private). When you weren't afraid to love somebody, even if you didn't know what they were thinking about you. If they were thinking about you at all. When you had faith instead of doubt. When you were happy. The bitterest pill of all (private). I don...

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