Still. I sit in this air-conditioned library, complacent. What am I doing? Seriously!? I don't feel like I know anymore. I miss my French horn. I miss it SO much, and I don't care how dorky that sounds. I'm sick of singing, and I am still regretting my decision to freakin' audition for ensemble. I mean, I like it. I do, and I'm glad I get
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