Well, that's it. It's after midnight. By now, I'm probably curled up into a fetal position in my bed, rocking back and forth, crying for my mommy. Or I might be all drugged up so I can sleep for a couple of months, preferably. Either way, you can be damn sure - tired as I ...
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I’m a writer. A lover, not a fighter. An amateur philosopher who enjoys shaving giraffes and dancing around my living room in my boxers.