Questions
Have you ever scratched your cunt, or your asshole, so hard it bled, but you fucking loved every dirty hot moment of it?
Will I ever feel, or believe, I am as smart as everyone else in my life seems to think? Will I ever stop feeling like an imposter?
Do they hear the sadness behind my words? Do they know how much I long for so many things I have never had?
I want to make more money, but is it worth it to sacrifice 10am snuggle time?
Are my whimsical ways going to eventually get me into trouble someday?
How on earth are people that pretty real?
Why must she ruin it ever single fucking time? Is this one of her super powers?
What would my life had been like if apathy (or extreme respectfulness) hadn’t played such a strong role?
Is anyone still reading this?
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