Why didn't I see it coming a mile away? Why don't I ever heed any warnings? Why do I insist on doing things my way when I know "my way" is a pain-filled one? You tell me, dear reader. Because I'll surely never know the workings of my own mind. I'm that sort of crazy, bat-shit insane, and contemplative. Get to know me, before throwing me away or before assuming past fucks know all. Four months told him nothing of me, otherwise he wouldn't have let me go. Herding beasts gather 'round and take his word for it, against the advice of the reading rainbow... and it's just one of those times when I desperately want to scream for these men to have the balls to have a mind of their own. Why do I care? I'm over them all. No more lackluster trials and errors, stopping for games is clearly where I'm getting into the infected batch.
So I will look elsewhere, in places that I have never looked for validation and amusement. And if I'm lucky, love will find me this time.
Hangman, it's not your fault.
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