i don't know what i'm doing anymore. i don't know who to protect or who to let go. i don't know what feels like pain or what pain actually is. i don't understand sadness versus sheer regret. i don't have one fucking clue where to direct my attention. i don't have any grasp on fantasy any longer. i don't dream; i nightmare. actualizing reality is
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at least you are unbelievably pretty.
it's not much, but i thought i'd throw an honest compliment your way. i saw your msg on my computer when i got back from work, but i was toooo laaaaate nooooooooooo
have you seen juno? just saw it tonight. pretty darn good. i am full of chicken. possibly in more than one way. general tao's from this place on my street. also sometimes spelled 'tso'. not spicy enough. i was wondering how chicken went into my plate and calcuated around 2.5 - 3. what the chickens were doing in the moments before they took that next step closer to getting on my brocolli and leaf-shaped wasabe garnished plate is something i didn't want to think about. yknow . . . i think i'm going to try to contact you right . . . now (!)
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i'm seeing the rosewood thieves in austin with casey tomorrow night. it would be really neat if you were there also. but, alas! when do you arrive in ole satown again?the 20th? hmmm. i want to see choo!
you are quite pretty yourself.
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yes, the 20th. basically tonight i leave and i'll be there tommorow morning. i'm jealous of you fuckers. i wanted to see a show with yall and i could have paid for one as a christmas prezent. i have this bangin ticketmaster certificate for like 80 or a 100 or something. anyways, you probably won't be able to hang out tommorow, but i'll give you a call when i drop out of the sky . . . like a piano in an old cartoon.
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