I am not anything worth even the dimmest shade of expression offered in a misused blurb.I never want to think again because those thought things make me talk and make me as outwardly awkward as I have always sort of felt. But I manage to have periods in which I am someone and feel things and act according to SOME sense of order. These days I just
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I pray for you, and hope all is well in all capacities for you (at the very least I hope goodness is on its way to you).
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