tonight, i had planned to go out. mixin' and a-minglin', if you will. however, i've decided to forgo the aptly named "battle at fort morgan" party, and instead opted for a more low-key night--and by low-key i mean sitting at home alone, drawing and writing letters to myself
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i need your address.
expect a call.
i love you. and i still want to kill a fat bitch
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