I think I'm going to have to betray sam and gabby's request for some writing on forcible writing and green puppies, as I'm contemplating if my fragile grasp of reality has been finally broken. A large portion of my day is spent in dream, sleep or daydream and sometimes I question reality itself. This may be a product of being relatively sequestered
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Perhaps you should try socializing again. I know I go a little bit batty when I'm cut off from other human contact. AHAHAHAHAHAHA INSANE.
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