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It is so hard to hang in there when every time you get one step closer to feeling a little better, something else or someone else throws you under the damn %#@&#! bus.
I am so tired of my life.
I hate myself.
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Since you ask, most days I cannot remember.
I walk in my clothing, unmarked by that voyage.
Then the almost unnameable lust returns.
| | --Anne Sexton |
http://purplebutterfly.psychcentral.net/
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