I ate dolmas and fiddled with a slice of lemon and listened to singing that sounded like a sad young beautiful Tom Waits. I want to prove myself to you, prove that I can earn it. I want to make my mama's heart better and ensure that it'll never be a question of quality of life, not for me and not for anyone. I will be forgiven, one day, for all of
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I don't know how many times I've thought this, which is weird.
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