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Største antall samtidige brukere var 1786, 9. juni 2009 kl 18:30.
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Like a moth to a flame you need to- set things off. Bursting at your seams yet somehow- you seem lost. Don't ya -boy? Your are not the first, your not the last to lose your hold on this world. Through the smoke and mirror in which you live- you can't breathe -you can't see -you don't get it. Wake up! Get this: its eating you up, and when she's had enough... «Gotta go all the way- gotta take all the pain..» I weep man. «...Gotta carry the cross..»' Get your head out of your ass. I mean it. No, you've got yourself to thank-Your bridges burned, your palace: a tomb. Another round of creampie badboy? We'll fat you up real nice. Another one in the pipe, c'mon! 5 by 5. You long to defy-To look in those eyes -and speak your mind. And now- the nail pierce the bone-written in stone: Well.. hell, «I miss you.» I've thought this all through and through and it makes sense-The sins of subconscience just won't make amends-I unmount my destrier and now- somehow, strangely it all makes sense to you though-
It does not for me.
The chances I never took has left me cold- I don't dare to think about- what I let go, no no
Fuck you- this isn't cool-Even if its true-I've lost my lust for life I-gave it to you- I want you head- Please- I've head enough-
I get it.