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im scared that i could too easily get used to the idea of living here. i don't want to go home. home= war paper and memorization of my part in a play. it also equals HELGA (which is good) i want to forget him and i have....but im jealous of his friendships....his laughter with anyone but me. why do i resort to meditating on such things that are probably just figments of my imagination. i must keep reminding myself. i sometimes hate love. Post a comment in response: |
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