I've recently learned a dear beloved anorexic whore we all know and simply dream about gutting, is now reading my diary. Awww. Isn't she sweet? It's such an adorable feature, especially when I wake up to dreams of cracking the bones that support her neck. The look of surprise you'll have, the sheer audacity I'm capable of, that you'll be so aware
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i wonder if she's read mine. i havem't go the hang of locked entries and such.
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