And just like that, I fuck up all the decent shit I have.

Even if it’s something immaterial like human connections.

But hey, who knows. Did I fuck it up? Or was it just poisonous? For some twisted, bizarre reason, I think I prefer thinking I fucked it up. That way I can keep my mental image of that person, and keep my healthy hatred of someone else.



Last Edited on: 2015/09/28 19:38:13 GMT-4

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