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How long you sit alone before you stop looking back, it's like you're waiting for Godot, and then you pick your sorry ass up off the street, and go.

Ah, sunny Kansas! You know, just in case you forgot where you were.

And, fuck you. You've failed at every goddamned promise you made, without apology, because you failed at me. Even the very small promises. Even those.

And, fuck you. Just fuck right the fuck off. Fuck you for making me suck it all up, like I always fucking do. Taking all of your failures and making them okay, making excuses. For behavior that's unforgivable.

Do you know what it's like to finally just stop caring? Or, more like, you care for nothing but the comfort of old anger, and thoughts of retribution.

I wonder how long I'll stare at June 29th, the day I stopped caring enough to even turn the calendar page.

If you're thinking of coming to California, I think you should.

Yes. My daughter will be named after Anna Begins. Yes. I told you a secret.

12:22 a.m. - 2003-07-16


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