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Mar 2018
and it can't be justice for all if you only make amends with the things you think you love. for the rest, it's uphill both ways. good luck, goodbye, and good riddance.
you smug sonofabitch. i'll have you know my father died right along with the rest of them! wide-eyed and wild the day he was born! i think i've earned the right!
you're not righteous, or enlightened. nothing you love is original. you're a cynic, a parasite, a bore. a festering wound that should have long been a scar by now. you're only happy when you're miserable.
it's easy to draw them in, you know. even hold them for awhile.
eventually, the rot sets in. then it's as it ever was.
the flower may wither, my child, but the roots stay strong and deep. we'll be back. as it ever was.
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