She brought her hands up to her head and ripped out two long chunks of her hair, pulling out shreds of scalp. No, don’t let me call myself that. She imagined herself on a barren 41 plain, post-Apocalypse, convulsing, waiting to die with the cockroach. Except that this music we have been swimming in is divine. The chance it is the same for both. Kneebone,—pray go!" implored Winifred.
Video ID: TW96aWxsYS81LjAgQXBwbGVXZWJLaXQvNTM3LjM2IChLSFRNTCwgbGlrZSBHZWNrbzsgY29tcGF0aWJsZTsgQ2xhdWRlQm90LzEuMDsgK2NsYXVkZWJvdEBhbnRocm9waWMuY29tKSAtIDE4LjExNi4xOS43NSAtIDI0LTA5LTIwMjQgMTk6NDA6MTAgLSAxNzMzNzI2NDA5
This video was uploaded to thenextfuture.net on 24-09-2024 12:15:03