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If anything ever made sense, I probably wouldn't write.

My apartment does not look like I spent the time I did bringing it into order.

Seriously.

Sisyphus is the last person anyone should relate to but here I am.

I actually want to cry.
 
What's the point, though?

God, it's not really even worth bringing up because so many people want to play armchair shrink and executioner.

This is set up is not right for me. It really hasn't been but it is what I can afford.

What a stupid day! 





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