For all intents and purposes I've disappeared. Nothing but this shell of me remains here. That which hasn't killed me has only made me bitter. I painted this picture of myself: a liar. a quitter. Routine has been putting words into my mouth for so long now. Does it matter if I don't know what to say - if I've forgotten how to speak? We've planned
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::added::
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Your Lrod and Master,
Valerie
P.S. you still seem ghetto...
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