Without

I am a bird with a french fry, an obscure bird with the desire to starve, starve, starve, starve and become but bones and feathers, feathers and bones and nothing more, nothing more, nothing more. That is precisely how I would love to live my life. Of course, I would have my dear darling love by my side. I can never leave him, no matter what. He can break my heart into a million pieces and more, and I'd still love him, despite how hurt I would be.

Et cetera.

Post Script: I want me s'more lovin' pronto.
Post Script Script: Good morning, starshine, the Earth says, "Hello!" (though it's quite the opposite).

Late night edit: Go fuck yourself. You disgust me. I'm done playing your childish games. Grow the fuck up.