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My life, through my eyes, to my fingers, on your screen, through your eyes.

The date went well, in clinical studies.

But, that thing wasn't there.

The thing I don't have words for. Wasn't there.

I can't imagine fucking him.

And, I don't know if that's because of a lack of imagination, or because I don't want to.

.

I've become the woman I've always hated. With manicured feet and hands, shoes matching purse, perfectly applied lipstick that lasts for 5 hours, a pack of cigarettes, and two rum and cokes.

You would more than likely hate me too.

(Just 'cause you feel it, doesn't mean it's there.)

2:32 a.m. - 2003-07-25

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