perhaps i don't know what i'm talking about.
perhaps i never have.
all i do is sulk and soak in these bullshit thoughts of mine.
i have nothing to say usually. yet, i'm obligated to write something.
so i blabber on about nothing.
as if something made any sense to me.
fuck.
things, things, things.
fuck your neighbors! do what makes you happy.
do what you want to do.
it's the only thing i know to say at the moment.
otherwise, i've got nothing.
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