2007-12-13 17:03:38 · 9 answers · asked by Anonymous in Arts & Humanities ➔ Philosophy
My love....invariable somebody climbs in the backseat and sloshes mud and snow all over it.
2007-12-13 18:52:30 · answer #1 · answered by Anonymous · 0⤊ 0⤋
Despair.
But sometimes I think of her and I go and say hi. And give her a warm sweater so she doesn't catch cold.
I've been spending more time with Bliss these days. Poor Despair has been stripped of her powers and left to shiver in the recesses of my mind. Not that I regret leaving her but I almost miss her black clothes, charcoal drawings and melancholy poetry...
2007-12-14 04:54:16 · answer #2 · answered by amp 6 · 0⤊ 0⤋
Lust. It is buried beneath all the emotions that are not as important and can never get out to the top again. It has gotten so cold and unpassionate and is running out of air. Soon it will cease to exist at all.
2007-12-15 22:09:48 · answer #3 · answered by Tigger 7 · 0⤊ 0⤋
Regret.
2007-12-14 02:58:35 · answer #4 · answered by Anonymous · 0⤊ 0⤋
Only in the presence of an abuser. All my emotions are comfortably naked; they trust me.
2007-12-14 20:59:41 · answer #5 · answered by Psyengine 7 · 0⤊ 0⤋
Naked sorrow.
2007-12-15 00:37:52 · answer #6 · answered by jbaudlet 3 · 0⤊ 0⤋
Passion..thanks for reminding me, I knew I left it somewhere.
2007-12-14 06:49:54 · answer #7 · answered by Anonymous · 0⤊ 0⤋
Just one,
a kiss from w
?
2007-12-14 10:06:56 · answer #8 · answered by :)(: 5 · 0⤊ 0⤋
yes there is.
2007-12-14 11:39:58 · answer #9 · answered by passionate 3 · 0⤊ 0⤋