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I sometimes wish I could just rip out pages of my life as if it were a journal causing certain expectations, thoughts and feelings to dissappear be forgotten as the words go up in smoke to memories I set fire to, to forget, to let go of the half truths and vocalized fanasties of my youth that I minipulated myself to believe. Leaving behind torn pages and a battered cover, proof of what life really looks like, but inside a beautiful story of reality.

Created: Jul 21, 2012


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