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I know I come last on the list. Hell I know im not even second, third or fourth. I know its not my couch you pass out on, its not my house you stop by at, its not me. I know its not me. As much as Im not ok with it, you force me to be ok with it. But just for the record? it sucks. And Im at the bottom of this list, written metaphorically on paper derived from another metaphorical image...a tree of hypocracy. Now I know this has probably gone right over your head. What Im referring to is that you say you want me to come to you when I need help, or when Im upset. But when the tables turned...well...theres the last on the list reference. < insert me here> A simple courtesy, a small request goes undone, again, again, again, again..so that my mind seems to echo with frustration. I ask for too much. The things I ask of you are just too difficult. So I sit under the tree of hypocracy, writing ramblings while the forest aches. I ask for too much, yes, too much is practically nothing at all.
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