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Start with truth
I don’t know shit about shit about nothing.
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tapas
She looks at me with that look again. Disdain? My hand is on the plate of food as I take it from the waitress. I’m hungry. I’m pregnant. I’m tired. But that look. It makes the body-feelings secondary. Why is she looking at me like this? What did I do? I’m confused again, everything feels
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wasting pages
i won’t waste too many pages here. this should be more about me.
wolfdog 