i think i fell out of a paper airplane, looking like a defeated angel, with bloodied wings. crippled and unusable. i don't know why i'm so anxious to protect the things that don't belong to me, or why ferocity wells up inside at the smallest effects now. i am underworked and overappreciated and worn from doing nothing. i'm no longer allowed to sit
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ps. i have pepto bismol and a big spoon if you are nauseated...remember that time?
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dork.
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