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What is it that makes life so busy? I mean, really? Even a day that I get out of school three hours early, I find myself moving nonstop with more things to do still ahead that day from the minute I wake up till I go to bed, far too late, and worrying about what I didn't get done. But it's so odd... I mean, it doesn't SEEM like I've got that
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I love you. Cuidate, hermanita.
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