189 lines
11 KiB
Plaintext
189 lines
11 KiB
Plaintext
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'##::::'##:::'#####:::'########: VIVA LA REVOLUCION! CERDO DEL CAPITALISTA!!
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##:::: ##::'##.. ##:: ##.....:: ===========================================
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##:::: ##:'##:::: ##: ##::::::: THE HELOTS OF ECSTASY PRESS RELEASE #434 !!
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#########: ##:::: ##: ######::: ===========================================
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##.... ##: ##:::: ##: ##...:::: "A Little Too Much About Me" !!
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##:::: ##:. ##:: ##:: ##::::::: *or* !!
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##:::: ##::. #####::: ########: "A Standard Fucked Up Irc.girl" !!
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..:::::..::::.....::::........:: by -> Meenk 1/15/99 !!
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!!========================================================================!!
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ten minutes to 6am, the day after christmas. i sit on irc, for
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lack of human interaction elsewhere. as pathetic as it is, the lack is
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not because of the hour, though i am an insomniac, but because of my
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disappointment with almost everyone i know. this has also carried onto
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irc. i am at that point in the irc cycle where i have dismissed most of
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the people i talk to as insincere and unimportant. as irc people should
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be, or so i am told. there are a few who really do matter to me though.
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i guess i am one of the worst irc people. i acknowledge the value of
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people i have never met. being the antisocial creature i have chosen
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to be, my standards don't include real world interaction.
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the holiday, and familial interaction that it imposed (though
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all through fiber optics) has caused me to take a look at myself as i
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was, and as i am. i am a very sentimental person, and when i have times
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of reflection i delve deep into my soul. i realize how lonely i am and
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how much i keep from myself and everyone around me. the purpose of this
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file is to exorcise my demons, and lay myself bare for all to see. this
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is your warning, if you don't want to know, stop reading now. for the
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few that remain, maybe, here I am.
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so tonight was one of those rare nights when I found myself
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reaching out to strangers. I had a long conversation with my best friend
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whom I have just left, in an unfamiliar city, a victim of his willpower,
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or lack thereof. i told him, for the thousandth time, how much i care,
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and to take care of himself, since I could not. i have an extreme
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maternal instinct. i need to care for those i care about, and it has
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just gotten worse over the years. i brought up to him, the loss of my
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friend nova, the one person i would have died for. a similar thing
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happened. i left town, chasing after dreams, she went on with life.
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ended up dying of a heroin overdose. i can't go through it again, so i
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pleaded with him to take care. if only i could be there. if only i could
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have been there. i made vague future plans with him, maybe on the
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superstition that i won't lose him if we have such an appointment.
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he proceeded to go to bed and i realized that he and i were not
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the only people in the channel. there was one more, who out of
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courtesy, indifference, or embarassment, stayed silent as i allowed
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myself to succumb to fear. i made a truce with fear long ago, and
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rarely did it ever take hold of me, anymore. though the third party
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remained silent i remembered how important vulnerability can be.
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honesty, innocence. not expected from anyone over eight years old, yet
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so important. this person had seen a side of me few ever do. i began to
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look for someone to whom i could talk to, without feeling threatened,
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in my sensitive state. but why hide it? because i am an irc.girl and
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irc.girls are supposed to be tough? because this mass of strangers will
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grab onto what they can and tear you apart? i get picked on every
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single day, without refrain, for being a slut, for being dependant, for
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being weak.
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what is left for me to hide? i am already regarded amongst those
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who see me that way as the lowest of the low. besides, no one can hurt
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me as much as I can, and do, hurt myself. i will not deny being less
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than sane, i will not deny that i have been around, and i will not deny
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that i cry. even now, my face is stained with tears. tears of regret.
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tears for those i have let down, tears for those whom i have had to
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abandon, tears for those whom i will hurt in the future.
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i was once told that i am transparent to everyone but myself.
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maybe this is true. maybe you all are already aware of my struggles with
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my emotions and i deluded myself into thinking i kept them private. i
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feel i have come a long way though, and there is no one who has been in
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my life long enough to see the progress, except me. i recall a time when
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all emotions i had, happiness, sadness, anger, excitement, were intense.
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so intense i could not handle them.
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the positive emotions were easy to use constructively. i was an
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overachiever, tried my hardest at everything. brought home straight As
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for years, tested at 99-100 percentile academically, won presidential
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awards numerous times. i was in the most advanced classes the district
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would allow me to take, going to my special classes, on the short bus,
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where we would take things apart, invent things, be observed while
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doing puzzles. i was also cutting myself, punching holes in doors (the
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foam core ones.. i was 8..), and having blackouts. my mother tried to
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have me committed when i was 10, they wouldn't take me. i went to live
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with my father instead.
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my stepmother was elated that she had a little girl to do stuff
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with. i was a girlscout, did crafts with her for the christmas sale at
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school, even went out to dinner with her the day I got my first period.
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my dad was doing well, had a successful career, and regularly took me
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to all the cool places in the bay area. my little sister was like my
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little doll. i continued to excel in school, winning spelling bees,
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math and history competitions, as well as filling up the little bar
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graphs on the state comprehensive tests. up to par. i hadn't had any
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sort of episode the entire time. then, my stepmother decided to
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separate from my dad. i was about to go into 7th grade.
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she moved to oregon, i opted to remain with my father. i rarely
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saw my dad after she left. he worked, i went out (11:00 curfew), he was
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asleep when I came home, gone when I woke up. we both liked this just
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fine, for a while. i had drawn the attention of a guy at school, one of
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the harder gangsters. i heard rumours about him 'claiming' me. one
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night he got me. after that, at school, people looked at me
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differently. i would walk to class while people talked, sometimes
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behind their hands, sometimes for all to hear, about the girl that gave
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it up to adrian. i went home and dragged an X-acto<tm> knife across my
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wrist. stupid move. not only did i do it the wrong direction, but i
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couldn't cut deep enough to do more than make a big ugly scab. i was 12.
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i gave up on the knife and gathered every pill in the house. i
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swallowed them with a Quik Stop cup full of water, then laid down to
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await my fate. after a while i felt like i had been chewing on foil,
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and my stomach was cramping. i puked up white grit then passed out.
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the next day i awoke to the phone. school wanted to know why i wasnt
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there. i said i was sick. i sounded plenty sick. the edges of my vision
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was decorated with what seemed to be black lace, and i felt like my
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ears were full of water. i freaked out and called a suicide line to
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see if i had eaten enough pills to die. i hadn't. i panicked and tried
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to strangle myself with a phone line. it hurt, and i passed out, though
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not from lack of oxygen. i stayed home for a week, and my hearing was
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still fuzzy for a while after i went back to school. only one person
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noticed the scab. she didn't say anything.
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within two months my dad realized something was not right with
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me, and while listening in on my phonecalls learned that i had slept
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with a guy in my neighbourhood. he put me in the car and 9 hours later
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i was under lockdown (by my parents) at my stepmother's. i tried to
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tell them what happened and was called various names, same names i
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hear from people i don't know today. i discovered drugs. heroin. the
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soothing smoke. i ratted out my dad for fucking some chick, out of
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spite. the entire household became chaos. my stepmother moved us into
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a house her boyfriend (nice politics, eh?) had bought her. she ditched
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him, brought my dad into the house, fucked the ex on the side, and
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tormented me for the trouble. my dad was threatening suicide. one
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morning, before school, i got all of my sister's sleeping pills,
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swallowed them dry, and slept.
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i woke up because i hit the floor. i had very little muscle
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control and managed to get out to the hallway and fall down the stairs.
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my stepmother was home and yelled at me, asking why i was home. i
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couldn't speak. i studdered, forgot what i was saying as i tried to say
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it, and convulsed. she freaked out and demanded that i tell her what
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was wrong. i produced dozens of empty pill blisters and she helped me
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to the car. i faded in and out on the way to the hospital. liquid
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charcoal, tubes, and six hundred dollars later, i was ready to go home.
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the hospital was used to it and didn't have time for psych evaluations.
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my older sister worked the pity party for as long as she could, but
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when people saw i didn't care, they didn't either. other shit happened,
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and i left home. i was 14.
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i moved in with a boy, young and stupid like me, with a house of
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his own. we played Donna Reed for a while, but he soon felt the wrath
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of my temper, and my fists. thank god he never hit me. i stayed with
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him for a couple years, hating and adoring him all at the same time.
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we got in a car accident and i had to go home to my dad and stepmother.
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nothing changed, except i was on crutches. i left again 3 months later.
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on the street for a month and a half, then back to the ex for another
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year. i left him for someone else. now, he and i would have had 2
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children.
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my new love and i went to see my mother for the first time in six
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or seven years. he was a recovering heroin addict. he never touched it
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while we were together, but when he left my mothers to go to his family
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he started again. i couldn't deal with the fighting and i stopped
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speaking to him. he was the last person i hit. i couldn't handle the
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violence anymore. i became incredibly subservient and tried my hand at
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other failed relationships (big surprise), and failed attempts to find
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something to hold on to.
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now, i remain in what i like to call 'constructive apathy'. i may
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seem like an uncaring, unfeeling bitch, but at least I am not hitting
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anyone. i am still trying to put my life together and make friends that
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I can count on to be there, not judge, be honest, and hopefully, not
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die on me. i once again have the will to live, and the desire to do
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more than merely exist.
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"i sentence you to be exposed before your peers..."
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I am human, I make (a lot of) mistakes, and sometimes I get
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overwhelmed. I didn't write this to be picked apart, though I expect it.
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I didn't write it for pity, I wrote it to possibly be understood. or not.
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none of you matter to me unless I want you to, anyway. I wrote this on
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my terms, because I wanted to. if you have a problem with it, tell
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someone who cares.
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!!========================================================================!!
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!! (c) !LA HOE REVOLUCION PRESS! HOE #434, WRITTEN BY: MEENK - 1/15/99 !!
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