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#sue
This year near now later as I slide into safe for the feeling, never once in real life as they call the experience of mortal ripening misspellts corrected asgoodas magigic tstsefly sleepy sick o hno this is that book louis said it sounds like science fiction --- but you init lou look it's that guy who married your mom and rescued your from the cult, fundamentally, with no regard for the damage I just knew. Okeh, we were caught in a net we did not know exists. Evil in its e-sense, virtual balnce factor intended to keep good in constant chessish cheshirish grin cheque, en garde, to point a fault in the plan… ellipses suffice for a minor re spect to authors admitting un belief of most order quired fixt ac-counting tual vir-beginning ever things, with no withdrawal date, the riches pile up so hitchenslipped in the bull Creflo Dollar, props, brohawny black ****** mofoe than fren in the end, y'did your proper whatever you knew in your self right right it just feels wrong jets, ball'n'f'Jeesus, risen above the fray, in Beulah Land, c'mon childrens, t'all join me walk wit jesus hear me say ain't another way I know and you know, I cain't lie nonono chile my heart be fixt fixt means, ain broke no joke, blowin hard hard har on that deep left end blue bleu sacre bleu I best rest and find mind gone a wander why you hear? Both, heare, here and hear, oft stretched to cover to means of leaking wwwwu. we may, as we the corpus hoct to pay some debt somebody never owed, an oath to believe a lie is true, I absolve you. You are free to no longer bher the burden of eventually accounting for every, every, every ever sworn idle word lock for ever int the con fused wicks match lock candles, we did not know if this went to now, when we have these magic pens and broad bands of reading minds finding threads we share, ideas at bare word level, down to actual jots, breath commas, some call them but readers of many [paradigms of mind] novels, realize their roles with shame, venting noxious fumes for [that verted joy fools floods of test-toss-or be owned}}}protein trigger me a fu ture sure thing ding Those genes that code for proteins are composed of tri-nucleotide units called codons, each coding for a single amino acid. Each nucleotide sub-unit consists of a phosphate, deoxyribose sugar and one of the 4 nitrogenous nucleotide bases. The purine bases adenine (A) and guanine (G) are larger and consist of two aromatic rings. The pyrimidine bases cytosine (C) and thymine (T) are smaller and consist of only one aromatic ring. In the double-helix configuration, two strands of DNA are joined to each other by hydrogen bonds in an arrangement known as base pairing. From <https://www.sciencedaily.com/terms/genetic_code.htm#:~:targetText=The%20genome%20of%20an%20organism,for%20a%20single%20amino%20acid.> Can we stand up right balanced, okeh. This ain't anybodies idea of hell, except the one Mormon guy who told me Morman worst ell, tellestial kingdom, was so much better than now that if god let you see it, you would die to get there. Time will tell. Keep the pressure on, high speed chase scarios are not torture, they only feel like lift off, oh shitunexpected floatin ches above the idea of enjoyment as an occupation. Peacemaking, as an occupation, occupying until now we gather, at the river and laugh laugh laugh alladem rules and reg ulah stuff, gwa n on ol woids wise womb man know gnosticious suspicious auspicity perspicacity capacity to tttalk sit no stutification evacuation of I can't remember. But grandpa, remember, Siri knows, ask her. 2019 wandering away from the ol'fo'khome ain't the adventure it once was past the edges of all the known in the world. My 8 yr old grand daughter put a locater spell on my converged network node if I manifest in odd realms she has Siri steer me to bed. The future is as good as I imagined, but I'm not the guy about to die while wondering what he missed that everyone else knew from the womb.
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Nov 21, 2019
Nov 21, 2019 at 11:51 PM UTC
A lighten up follow up on Truth Serummmm
This year near now later as I slide into safe for the feeling, never once in real life as they call the experience of mortal ripening misspellts corrected asgoodas magigic tstsefly sleepy sick o hno this is that book louis said it sounds like science fiction --- but you init lou look it's that guy who married your mom and rescued your from the cult, fundamentally, with no regard for the damage I just knew. Okeh, we were caught in a net we did not know exists. Evil in its e-sense, virtual balnce factor intended to keep good in constant chessish cheshirish grin cheque, en garde, to point a fault in the plan… ellipses suffice for a minor re spect to authors admitting un belief of most order quired fixt ac-counting tual vir-beginning ever things, with no withdrawal date, the riches pile up so hitchenslipped in the bull Creflo Dollar, props, brohawny black ****** mofoe than fren in the end, y'did your proper whatever you knew in your self right right it just feels wrong jets, ball'n'f'Jeesus, risen above the fray, in Beulah Land, c'mon childrens, t'all join me walk wit jesus hear me say ain't another way I know and you know, I cain't lie nonono chile my heart be fixt fixt means, ain broke no joke, blowin hard hard har on that deep left end blue bleu sacre bleu I best rest and find mind gone a wander why you hear? Both, heare, here and hear, oft stretched to cover to means of leaking wwwwu. we may, as we the corpus hoct to pay some debt somebody never owed, an oath to believe a lie is true, I absolve you. You are free to no longer bher the burden of eventually accounting for every, every, every ever sworn idle word lock for ever int the con fused wicks match lock candles, we did not know if this went to now, when we have these magic pens and broad bands of reading minds finding threads we share, ideas at bare word level, down to actual jots, breath commas, some call them but readers of many [paradigms of mind] novels, realize their roles with shame, venting noxious fumes for [that verted joy fools floods of test-toss-or be owned}}}protein trigger me a fu ture sure thing ding Those genes that code for proteins are composed of tri-nucleotide units called codons, each coding for a single amino acid. Each nucleotide sub-unit consists of a phosphate, deoxyribose sugar and one of the 4 nitrogenous nucleotide bases. The purine bases adenine (A) and guanine (G) are larger and consist of two aromatic rings. The pyrimidine bases cytosine (C) and thymine (T) are smaller and consist of only one aromatic ring. In the double-helix configuration, two strands of DNA are joined to each other by hydrogen bonds in an arrangement known as base pairing. From <https://www.sciencedaily.com/terms/genetic_code.htm#:~:targetText=The%20genome%20of%20an%20organism,for%20a%20single%20amino%20acid.> Can we stand up right balanced, okeh. This ain't anybodies idea of hell, except the one Mormon guy who told me Morman worst ell, tellestial kingdom, was so much better than now that if god let you see it, you would die to get there. Time will tell. Keep the pressure on, high speed chase scarios are not torture, they only feel like lift off, oh shitunexpected floatin ches above the idea of enjoyment as an occupation. Peacemaking, as an occupation, occupying until now we gather, at the river and laugh laugh laugh alladem rules and reg ulah stuff, gwa n on ol woids wise womb man know gnosticious suspicious auspicity perspicacity capacity to tttalk sit no stutification evacuation of I can't remember. But grandpa, remember, Siri knows, ask her. 2019 wandering away from the ol'fo'khome ain't the adventure it once was past the edges of all the known in the world. My 8 yr old grand daughter put a locater spell on my converged network node if I manifest in odd realms she has Siri steer me to bed. The future is as good as I imagined, but I'm not the guy about to die while wondering what he missed that everyone else knew from the womb.
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104
They pretend to be your brother/sister, but at your back they are a dusty gold digger, They published your character in daily news, used you as a broken tools, They paint you in history with their fake and bitter stories, They chew your bones with lies all day, think that your life will becomes muddy someday,   They blackmail you, told everyone that you ain't real, that your life is a mess, used you as copy and paste, They drew you with their nasty routine and broken pencil, and used their spicy spite as the eraser, They looks beautiful on the outside, but inside, there heart leaks with sores, In your presence, they hail you like king or queen, In your absence, they murdered your attitude and behave like they are so good, So called friends, You find them in church, wove in sheep clothing, So called friends, You find them in school, dark aches in the midst of white aches, So called friends, They are here, they are there, they are everywhere Direct copy of the devil, there hands are full of evil and always caught in the act of trouble, Shine your eyes!!
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Oct 19, 2019
Oct 19, 2019 at 9:14 PM UTC
So called friends
We're loose associations. Brutality queues the phrases. Reality loses luster, in fallow with boot to daisies . Cowering and embracing our trusted tomes, honing a fruitless joke, that only touches on tones that suit the layman Famous and clueless faces. Racing to rue the cadence. Faking a sweet embrace, for imminent tears, but grew impatient. California coos sooth impostor fits, but it's a syndrome fifty shades dense, and way to thick to fit the staples. In case you were getting wayward; our guiding fables, sentinels that they are, will guard the stables and bark orders, pouring out the spirits and clearing history, with brazen logic. Honestly, I carved a broken heart, instead of tapping the maple, sue me.
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Dec 6, 2018
Dec 6, 2018 at 9:19 PM UTC
I carved a heart.
Peom and poeple are one of the sema my grandma I mean grannar is pretty nice accept this, or I sue, your sued say goodbye to your company and your life. Life in Jail isn’t bad just don’t drop the soap in the shower. By the Boy Next Door with The Disabilities
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Nov 30, 2018
Nov 30, 2018 at 4:07 AM UTC
Sorry For Sueing
In the shade of my carriage, I think of all the times where I just wanted to surrender to my own inner darkness I have been so afraid of life of being a seed that never sprouts My mind would become a storm of emotion that would take over me. But just like in the carriage, there were cracks of light and I thought of the many friends that I had made. The many friends who have supported me, even when I didn't see my own self-worth and my own talents. One being the ever patient, very kind, Queen Sue, one of many Queens of HP who I am indebted to. A truly kind and gentle soul who has broken from her chrysalis, and flutters her iridescent wings. Everything she touches grows, and everyone near and far knows that hers is a soul that gives so much. When I boarded the ships and faced the turbulence of my own stability, when I was drowning and ready to close my eyes, I could hear her. "Don't give up!" her voice as sweet as a psalm and as one made of pure light, offered me her hand, and pulled me up so I could breathe. Though it was hard, I managed to calm my inner storms and return safe and sound. As my carriage stops, I peek out of the window and I can see her waving from her tower. In her Kingdom I arrived, and she continues to thrive And her dynasty will be one of true glory.
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Jul 29, 2018
Jul 29, 2018 at 3:09 PM UTC
To Queen Sue 'The Angel'
When I think of all the tears and turbulence life has given me, it sometimes makes me hard for me to forgive this world I usually would find peace in the solitude and my waters would be still. I'd honestly prefer that than to feel alone amidst this sea of life But now, I've learned to dance with the naiads by the Springs of Many Lives. With her hand in mind, the life-stream strums and begins to form rings Each ripple made is a bond that grows stronger in time Each one beaming with many hues Now I see, the true beauty of life. The waters will run hot, cold and warm. We all will dance different dances. But the Naiads show me the beautiful bonds I have made with my fellow Kings and Queens on HP from all walks of life who wear their crowns with pride. That is a life I yearn for. For my diadem to be made of pure starlight. For me to have such understanding makes me shed true tears of joy.
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Jul 25, 2018
Jul 25, 2018 at 2:11 PM UTC
Etheria
To my good friend, Sue Stay safe in your chrysalis I'll be here waiting Keep your mind on you I'll stay true to the promise to write for us both You are not alone You are a kind and sweet soul So regenerate In your chrysalis I will await in its glow and for it to crack The winds will sing sweet And the Northern Lights will dance And you will emerge Shining, born again With strong, bright, velveteen wings With love as armour With all your wounds healed And all your scars now faded And we see you smile I know you'll come through People may have struck you down But you weren't destroyed To my good friend, Sue My hand's on your chrysalis Just know I am here
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Jul 20, 2018
Jul 20, 2018 at 4:03 PM UTC
Chrysalis
Full wings or broken An angel is an angel with shining beauty
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Jul 20, 2018
Jul 20, 2018 at 2:11 PM UTC
Angel
In me, the flames of conflict has me in pain Mind, body and soul I look to the sky And I see your helping hands That now calms my storms
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Jul 13, 2018
Jul 13, 2018 at 3:42 PM UTC
Hands
She glides through this life gowned and glowing in white In her hand, a candle with a golden flame that never dies And she spotted me on the beach with a branch in my hand As I was drawing my scars in the sea-kissed sands. It was then that I felt behind me a tender heat, so I turned and met her gaze. The scars I drew in the sand healed. Under my feet, a path of glass marble that when kissed by the sunlight, became a rainbow. She beckoned me to follow her to which I did and we ventured through sky, land and sea She spoke so gently She smiled so kindly Her words had so much worth with such little cost My sorrowed heart was halved My joy seemed to double And then she said she had to go. But she smiled and said that she was never far behind, and if ever in doubt, I should look to the sky I'll see her star and feel her gaze And I would always end up with a smiling face. Handing me her undead candle, she floated away and I would never forget that day. She saw me a someone who could heal and touch many lives And like the talent in me, it will never die Now watching the dying sun, by the beach, I turn my face to the empty seat. No, I shouldn't say empty. So it is sweet to smile and meet the angel that burns with a kind heat
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Jul 5, 2018
Jul 5, 2018 at 8:46 AM UTC
The Angel That Burns With A Kind Heat
The unlikeliest people have wings on their backs peace in their souls and halos under hats
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Jun 9, 2018
Jun 9, 2018 at 12:37 PM UTC
Wings
PRINCE WILLIAM AND KATE ARE SUING A MAGAZINE THEIR PRIVATE LIVES ARE PRIVATE AND NEVER TO BE SEEN HERE IN AUSTRALIA JUST RELAXING IN THE SUN AND TO REST THE PAPARAZZI ARE TOO POUNCE AND SHOW OF KATE'S BREAST THIS INTRUSION INTO THERE LIFE IS VERY QUESTIONABLE INDEED THEY DEFINITELY HAVE THE RIGHT TO SUE FOR MEDIA GREED
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May 2, 2017
May 2, 2017 at 7:11 PM UTC
WILLIAM AND KATE
Sue took my hand on a saturday night walked her home when she told me with all her might About her rock n roll boys and her school shenanigans how she found her voice in the backroom with her toys She seemed to be a bad girl out of my league so during the way home i could only look at her rosy cheeks Got to her doorstep where she whispered goodbye kissed me on my cheek and said till monday, you magpie
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Dec 1, 2016
Dec 1, 2016 at 10:14 AM UTC
Sue is a bad girl
We dine on Tuna & Merlot red wine a single car's headlights shine                                                                                           traveling down a road                                                                                          so many stories untold you're selling your old flat in the Georgian house                                                                                                         we all lived in                                                                                back in the colorless nineties when the music was bad - Westlife, Take That, Spice Girls                                                                                                          & everyone                                                                                      wore either black or blue it seemed, on this Island & your boys were still small                                                                   & my family holidayed in Cornwall                                                             & I didn't yet know I could write poetry when you move away I shall be sorry to see you go
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Aug 15, 2015
Aug 15, 2015 at 7:33 PM UTC
Neighbor
We dine on Tuna & Merlot red wine a single car's headlights shine                                                                                           traveling down a road                                                                                          so many stories untold you're selling your old flat in the Georgian house                                                                                                         we all lived in                                                                                back in the colorless nineties when the music was bad - Westlife, Take That, Spice Girls                                                                                                          & everyone                                                                                      wore either black or blue it seemed, on this Island & your boys were still small                                                                   & my family holidayed in Cornwall                                                             & I didn't yet know I could write poetry when you move away I shall be sorry to see you go
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18
Mia is best friends with Ana, and Ana is best friends with Sue, one day Sue saw me and said I love you. Ana said I'll love you 10 pounds lighter, Mia said plus 5 pounds less. Sue said I'll gladly take off  2 pounds of unwanted stress. Ana told me I was fat, other people did too, So I  believed Ana was so very true. Ana told Mia to help get rid of all my  stress. So then tomorrow I can fit into my brand new dress, I asked how many pounds until you will love me. Ana said just 5 pounds lighter, and  Mia said just 3 pounds less, and Sue said I'll gladley take away all the unwanted stress. So I pulled out my blades to talk to Sue, she said, " dont forget I was the only one who truly loved you."
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Feb 7, 2015
Feb 7, 2015 at 12:14 PM UTC
My best friend
The faded flicker of the far off clock was my only source of light. Until I picked up my phone and let my 2 A.M. thoughts run rampant. They made my fingers race across the screen. Made them play tag. They swiped and pinched until finally there you were. At 2 A.M. you were in my hands again. You're smile was as wide as ever and your eyes held the same glitter like they did when you used to talk to me. And You spoke about me even more. People would often come up to me and say that my name was all that would slip off your tongue. And I remembered that snake. The first time it brushed against my lower lip wanting access like a lion knowing that there was more to life than it's own cage. But to everyone, you spoke of me like I was the one who made the sun rise, who put the stars in the sky, who made the wind blow, and who made your world as you knew it turn. My 2 A.M. thoughts made my fingers dance again. And another you appeared before me. All dressed up. Like we were married. But far from it. We sat like we had to save space on the Mayflower. I was in your lap and your arms were around my fragile frame. And I knew I would never love someone as much as I loved you that night. And my 2 A.M. thoughts brought me to the messages. Where are little "I love you more" fights were held and our futures were voiced. Remember that? I was only a few months older than you. And I remember saying that I had to wait longer for my soulmate to come to me. And there you were again. In my head talking to me when we were bestfriends. While tapping on the plastic on the screen, the fingers fought for their right to voice the will of my 2 A.M. thoughts. And I wrote about how I met you so far, way back when. I wrote about the dances we went to, the dates we laughed about. And then ultimately the 2 A.M. thoughts brought me to the deepest places I never wanted to let set free again. And they scrambled on the keyboard of the phone! CAPS LOCKs, sorrys, pleads, and begs. Explanation after explanation and so many what if's. And I read it and read it. And only now did I realize that I was choking on the tears that you left me with. And I continued with the rant, and blamed you for what happened and blamed you for the causes. And then I stopped. And wept into the cold tear stained pillow, screaming into it like it was my last shot at everything I could ever have been. And once I felt numb enough to pretend that it wouldn't bother me anymore I let the small sobs escape my quivering lips and I destroyed the barrage of words that was my 2 A.M. thoughts. And instead willed my hands to let the fingers dance once more as I typed: You're coming back, right? _________________ You're coming back right (sent 2:35 A.M.) (read 2:36 A.M.) . . . And the dots they came. And I waited. But inevitably, Just like you, They left me with the question: You're coming back, right?
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Nov 22, 2014
Nov 22, 2014 at 3:59 AM UTC
You're coming back, right?
The faded flicker of the far off clock was my only source of light. Until I picked up my phone and let my 2 A.M. thoughts run rampant. They made my fingers race across the screen. Made them play tag. They swiped and pinched until finally there you were. At 2 A.M. you were in my hands again. You're smile was as wide as ever and your eyes held the same glitter like they did when you used to talk to me. And You spoke about me even more. People would often come up to me and say that my name was all that would slip off your tongue. And I remembered that snake. The first time it brushed against my lower lip wanting access like a lion knowing that there was more to life than it's own cage. But to everyone, you spoke of me like I was the one who made the sun rise, who put the stars in the sky, who made the wind blow, and who made your world as you knew it turn. My 2 A.M. thoughts made my fingers dance again. And another you appeared before me. All dressed up. Like we were married. But far from it. We sat like we had to save space on the Mayflower. I was in your lap and your arms were around my fragile frame. And I knew I would never love someone as much as I loved you that night. And my 2 A.M. thoughts brought me to the messages. Where are little "I love you more" fights were held and our futures were voiced. Remember that? I was only a few months older than you. And I remember saying that I had to wait longer for my soulmate to come to me. And there you were again. In my head talking to me when we were bestfriends. While tapping on the plastic on the screen, the fingers fought for their right to voice the will of my 2 A.M. thoughts. And I wrote about how I met you so far, way back when. I wrote about the dances we went to, the dates we laughed about. And then ultimately the 2 A.M. thoughts brought me to the deepest places I never wanted to let set free again. And they scrambled on the keyboard of the phone! CAPS LOCKs, sorrys, pleads, and begs. Explanation after explanation and so many what if's. And I read it and read it. And only now did I realize that I was choking on the tears that you left me with. And I continued with the rant, and blamed you for what happened and blamed you for the causes. And then I stopped. And wept into the cold tear stained pillow, screaming into it like it was my last shot at everything I could ever have been. And once I felt numb enough to pretend that it wouldn't bother me anymore I let the small sobs escape my quivering lips and I destroyed the barrage of words that was my 2 A.M. thoughts. And instead willed my hands to let the fingers dance once more as I typed: You're coming back, right? _________________ You're coming back right (sent 2:35 A.M.) (read 2:36 A.M.) . . . And the dots they came. And I waited. But inevitably, Just like you, They left me with the question: You're coming back, right?
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16
I lay in my bead cold and alone Waiting for the endless pain To go away. I lay in my bed cold and alone For someone to save me From dying at home. I lay in my bed cold and alone I write and I write but nothing comes out. I lay in my bed cold and alone Talking to myself For there’s no one to talk. I lay in my bed cold and alone Waiting for my soul to fill what broke. I lay in my bed cold and alone For happiness I seek when I’m alone. I lay in bed cold and alone Please save me from drowning In my own thoughts. I lay in my bed cold and alone…
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May 9, 2014
May 9, 2014 at 8:18 PM UTC
I lay in my bed cold and alone
I always wear pink But I am broken inside. I always wear pink But I don’t always smile. I always wear pink Because it shows how strong I have to be. I always wear pink because it is my favorite color. I always wear pink because I have no friends. I always wear pink because it gives me hope Though I have nothing to rely on. I always wear pink to lie to everyone. I always wear pink because it’s the only thing I have. I always wear pink because my life Is so messed up not even the brightest sun can Illuminate it. I always wear pink because I’m really not happy But I have to lie to everyone so that they can be strong. I always wear pink For my extraordinary soul That has nothing but a simple cut. I always wear pink. I always wear pink.
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May 1, 2014
May 1, 2014 at 5:11 PM UTC
I always wear pink...
I am a happy girl... Though I go through the dark and lay on my knees, I laugh and I laugh till my laugh leads to tears. Though I look and I look at the razor once again, I open and smile and go back to my cave. And even though I cry my eyes out, this is the image I show to the world when i'm out. The thing they don't know is that my tears lead to fears, and my soul is a virtue no one will ever meet.
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Apr 24, 2014
Apr 24, 2014 at 8:21 PM UTC
I am a happy girl?
Everything happens for a reason, they say. People say a lot of things. They talk and talk and talk. Not knowing that the person next to them is broken like a glass and says ‘I’m okay’ as if it were the truth. They just have no idea what it’s like. What it’s like to seek safety in other people. What it’s like to go home every day and cry until your eyes look like a tornado. What it’s like to not be happy for the fact that millions of internal voices take control of someone’s thoughts. They just have no idea.
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Apr 22, 2014
Apr 22, 2014 at 5:44 PM UTC
Untitled
I try to be like everybody else, to fit in. But when I try, I just ****
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Apr 18, 2014
Apr 18, 2014 at 11:40 PM UTC
Untitled