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#1
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It's one of those weeks. Volatile is my life.
Don't touch me, I'll bite off your hand. Don't look at me, I'll take offense. Talk to me at your peril. Why am I ignored? Not here, but in real life? Why does no one offer any attention? Alone. As always. I can't talk to anyone. Too many problems in the family anyway. I don't think I matter. It's too hard to care about things that don't affect me.
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![]() If we believe we can't lose Even mountains will move It's my faith, it's my life This is our battle cry! -Skillet |
![]() allme, Anonymous12111009, Luvmydog
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#2
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Awe hun.. I'm sorry.
I'd personally touch you with the risk of getting my hand bitten off any day of the week over some other people I know IRL. :/ |
#3
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Sorry you're having a rough time of it.
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... am I part of the cure, or am I part of the dis-ease? --Coldplay |
#4
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Oh wow sounds rough, sending you some love
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’’In the end, it’s not going to matter how many breaths you took, but how many moments took your breath away’’ |
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