Finally life becomes a very specific thing, and thats what we are.
Looking back, I'm beginning to believe that we need to always be fucked up. We need to always have some reason to hate ourselves, something to make us feel eternally incomplete.
Why? How come?
Because thats what it all comes down to. A struggle for forgiveness in an
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Coudl be b/c it is so late (early).. I dont know..
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