my time here stinks of something foul, but im tooooo bored to even bitch about it. florida is a drill to the head. god damn. my sister is a bossy dunce, and everyone is bad company. i still love people though, despite how "raw ripped off skin" they make me feel. i dont do anything here. not draw or write. or even commit my special brand of artistic
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i've been committing acts of poetic terrorism like mad since moving here two weeks ago, and NO ONE SEEMS TO NOTICE. i guess the veiw up their arses is more exciting. or something. blarg.
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you'll be better for it, no doubt.
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burp at the mall.
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