paperback writer
i hate emo, especially on commercialized holidays
It's Christmas Morning and we're about to leave for Atlanta on a trip no one wants to go on and instead of Christmas joy and familial warmth I'm full of self pity and those damn unshed tears. And mucus. A lot of mucus. Agh. How It's a Wonderful Life of me. ::shakes head:: I'll talk to you in a week. FIN. 4:30 a.m., Saturday, Dec. 25, 2004 |
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flipping pages
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