So I was looking over my journal, and it makes it seem like I'm a REALLY pissed off individual. In truth, not really. I've gotten over the worst of my undying hatred for people, and I usually just have to bitch about it to feel better. Also, I have a bad memory. Remembering the day I sat at home, waiting for Adam to call, really reminds me and
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Sorry, I wanted to write a longer comment last night but it was too late and I was being shouted at for not having unrolled the futon.
You write very well. I love it.
In response to your previous post; despite male fanatsies, the reality of having a woman look at you as if you're a piece of meat and expecting immediate sexual performance can be a truly penis-shrinking experiece.
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