Ah yes, this summer contains the everpresence of the love I have for hating my life. This summer has made depression seem like some kind of gross sport. This summer has turned us all into goth sewer-guppies, fleeting towards any sign of hope that dare peek its head out. For every piece of hope knows that hope dies here, for this is truly the summer of gross unfufillment. We have turned this summer into a filthy pit of stank and for that it has chosen to make our lives hell until we reach some change or innovation in damnation that the adults like to call "Back to School".
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