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Feb 2016
i live for the taste of life. late night on his bike with wind through my hair. the overpriced coffee. i am somewhat a lazy and privileged *** in the prettiest hell anyone could ask for. sometimes crying and asking my dad why can't i feel anything. why cant i be emotionally connected to people. I like to think of myself as a vagabond (its the ADHD and depression he says just like what my psychiatrist tells me)when it comes to this sort of things and the alcohol makes it less revolting as i sit across the table saying things i don't mean nevertheless what i do, i do the best.
mercy christina
Written by
mercy christina
406
   Bianca Reyes and emily
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