I think I missed this back pain. The pain of sitting, not knowing for how long. Pain semi voluntary.
My hair is already growing. One of these days I'll have a sunflower in the window. How I wish I could grow and now. Je Crains let things go, let me go. Always wrong.
Why I want to say something optimistic? I do not want to continue telling me that things will be fine, I would be fine with the fact that there are well. I want to accept the plants and dead hair, bad notes and news.
is that I have to talk about it all too but I think I need to fix things and be satisfied, to review, feel I am sharing what I get.
On my way I need a logbook and feel that I'm reporting somewhere. So is a cup with a string that connects to any side I feel that the mere effort to extend my middle and it's something. It's a place you've arrived.
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