At some point, even the greatest misery begins to fade. Life, or what passes for life, plods on in it's own unending weary footsteps, and somehow we plod along with it, if we stay lucky.
If it weren't my life, I wouldn't have believed it. I hated everyone, for they were so phony. I don't give a damn about my bad reputation
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If it weren't my life, I wouldn't have believed it. I hated everyone, for they were so phony. I don't give a damn about my bad reputation
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