he did it in a way that wasn't yelling... more like an annoyance....
like a boil or a wart or a scab.
guess i am scab.
fuck.
and i was so fucking happy.
serves me right eh?
fuck you all too
"I felt like crying but nothing came out. it was just a sort of sad sickness, sick sad, when you can't feel any worse. I think you know it. I think everybody knows it now and then. but I think I have known it pretty often, too often." — Charles Bukowski (Tales of Ordinary Madness)
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