So. One of my friends' grandmothers told me I'm retarded (yes, that's the word she used) for not going back to TFC to finish up.
I hate thinking I mean more to someone than I actually do. Reality bites again. Ouch.
I guess it wasn't the same for you and me.
I suddenly feel horrible for everything I must've caused him to go through. I now know
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normally when they are en mass.
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If Mr. Durden pulled out a gun and pointed it at your head and informed you that you were about to die and then asked what you want to do with your life, what would you tell him?
I don't need the answer, you do.
The truth will set you free, but blind assumptions are chains.
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