i think i figured out why i don't really feel any excitement about the holidays anymore, although i could be totally wrong about everything my brain is trying to rationalize
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the heart is a lonely hunter is not like- fucking- james joyce or something. i think i'm on the wavelength of dull books:/ like, i could never read tom clancy. i'd cry from all the plot. oh, and the lameness.
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ahh, mcdaniel.
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