Monthly Archives: April 2013

Reaping What You Sow – Ana’s Tale

I feel cold.  It has been a while since I have spoken with you, but I have been reflecting on past events.  I haven’t felt cold in such a long time.  I am still not able to speak of it, the dark times before I have found my solace in Pelor.  I will tell you of most recent doings, since I seem to have time between when we leave next.  I think I have been in this town long enough to be considered resident Cleric.  I have been able to do honor and spread the praises of my Pelor, but I grow restless, and this town no longer feels as good as it once did.

I feel I must go back in order to go forward, to revisit past events so you can see full picture.  The last time we spoke, we had conflict within ourselves, and we had come back to Inn to rest for the evening.  Before we had gotten back to Inn, my young song girl had come to me, separate from group, and told me a tale that made my blood run cold.  She needed me to hear confession, to ease soul, as guilt began to eat soul.  She told me that few nights back, when we return to town to heal and regroup, members of our party had planned to rob the church of St. Cuthbert.  Kovu, our charismatic member, wanted originally to burn the church to cause distraction.  Song girl talked plan down, knowing this would be a dangerous path to take, and instead they came to another plan to cause distraction so she could steal items and gold.

The reason for this being that Kovu and our Elf Sorceress felt that the church had overcharged us for healing, even though our deeds have provided relief for the town and its people.  We had spoken about this before these actions were taken, and both myself and Mairna, our dwarf fighter, did not feel this so.  It was only us who paid for healing, and I felt that we should not expect favors as the town had not asked us to undertake this task, we had given ourselves to these tasks.  Mairna had a slightly different take as she felt as herself and I were the only ones who paid gold price, it was our offense to take, and neither her nor I had issue.  I thought group agreed on outcome, but clearly I was wrong.

Song girl told me of plan, keep me distracted at one end, which Kovu did, knowing my attraction to him, and the others would complete task.  She seemed troubled, knowing what she did was wrong.  I absolved her from sin as best I could, and told her we could not keep possessions stolen.  She handed them over, and when everyone was sleeping, I took items back to holy church.

The Mother took the items, thanked me for returning, but said that she had noticed the items missing and had already alerted authority.  This did not surprise me, being Cuthbert’s  people.  She could sense something further was troubling me, so she asked why my eyes looked sad.  I told her about my fears, that darkness lurked deep in one of my party member.  I told her of the yield, the death, the plan to burn down the church.  I did not think Kovu was truly evil, but I could not deny that the acts that were committed and the thought of burning down a church of a righteous God to me were sign of evil.  I worried about my fellow members – Song girl, whose innocence was being taken down an evil path; Rogue, who was not evil, but was easily swayed; Elf Sorceress, who had recently lost Husband. Dwarf and Barbarian I did not worry about, their resolution was as strong as my own, and they saw things as they were.  

She eased me, and told me not to be surprised if we crossed paths with Cuthbert’s men on our roads.  I knew at this point, things were out of my hand.  I could not deny the justice that should be Cuthbert.  

We woke the next morning, preparing to set off.  Mairna wanted to ensure the peace of all.  She was concerned that we would not be able to function as group with so much hanging from day before.  Both the Elf and Kovu seemed defensive, which I still could not understand why she took up arms, but I was not going to ponder it.  I was over my attraction after seeing what I saw and knowing what I knew.  Promises were made to not attack party, we couldn’t succeed if we fought among ourselves.  We set out and encountered many thing on way, a troll, a group of ogre, a T-Rex.  Yes, a T-Rex, which is now member of party.  Barbarian decided he would like for pet, so he make friend with it, and now it follows us like dog.  Very big dog.  

After a day of battle, we set up for camp.  I was still nervous, preparing to sleep in armor, prepare glyph to sleep on, protecting myself as much as possible.  I still do not understand the mind of Kovu, and I did not entirely feel safe.  Before we could settle down for the evening, we heard a noise coming from the forest.  In rode two Paladins, both wearing the insignia of St. Cuthbert.  The dismounted, weapons not drawn, and asked to speak to Song girl, Elf, Rogue, and Kovu.  They turned to Mairna, Barbarian, and myself and addressing me advised that they knew of my returning the items and they were going to question the parties responsible.  They asked the fighter and barbarian to not be involved and if they were unable to step back to leave.  They stepped back, not leaving, and I saw the barbarian silently preparing and watching in case things went poorly and we were attacked. I knew he would not fight against the Paladins.

Kovu immediately started to become defensive, stating he had nothing to do with it, maybe the one who returned it did, or the one who sang the tale.  I was saddened by his inability to accept repercussions for his actions, but in the short time I had been in his company I was not surprised.  I spoke on behalf of Song girl, advising she came to me to be absolved, she gave me the items to return.  Kovu kept speaking, almost taunting the clearly powerful Paladins, and I asked that Song girl be allowed to stand with me.  I sensed situation was going to escalate, and I wanted to protect her.  One Paladin began preparing a spell, a truth telling spell, which the Elf dispelled.  Kovu kept talking, daring the Paladin to raise arms.

This is where the tale turns dark, friend.  The Paladin, sent here to do a job, walked up to Kovu and raising his sword, struck him down.  I could do nothing to stop it, nor negate it once it happened.  The Elf immediately went invisible, and Song girl and Rogue went back willingly.  They offered safe transport and a fair trial if they went, and after seeing what happen, they allowed them to take into custody.  They stated the remaining party members could go with them, travel back to town and bear witness to trial.  I offered to go to speak on the behalf of both, and thankfully both the dwarf and barbarian came with.  We were not given time to bury Kovu, and I knew the Elf would not come out of hiding.

I spoke with them while we traveled, telling our tale, and spoke of my sorrow of the outcome.  It had only been a short time, but the death of a companion is always bittersweet, even when you fear that companion may want to cause harm.  I was hoping in our travels I could ease his demons, as I had my own, that I could help him see light.  I know the Paladins did not want to strike down, only to serve justice, and sometimes you must take arms.

Song girl and Rogue were questioned, both admitting their parts, and both were given penance.  Song girl, because of her sorrow and confession, was given a week’s worth of service work and Rogue was given a month since, well, he was not as sorrowful.  We wait now in town for the month to be over, me working in Pelor’s church, Mairna with the blacksmith, and Barbarian with his pet.  Song girl has done her time, but I can tell that the loss of our two members has made her sad.  I hope she does not carry the weight on her shoulders.  Rogue should be done soon, and then we will regroup and head out again, to finish what we started.

I do not know what happened with Elf, but I feel she was angry.  I saw her look at me, the flash in the eyes, the anger burning deep.  It was not so long ago that I too had same look.  I would not be surprised if we crossed paths again, her and I.  I feel I may have made an enemy, but I have made so many during my time in this life.  I do not fear, as I have faith in Pelor, but I am always wary.  I do hope Kovu’s soul has repented, that he can be safely transported somewhere where there is not so much darkness.

Thank you for listening to tale, and for allowing me your time.  I shall be leaving here again soon, and it is nice to have a person to speak with.  The way things seem to go, I may be back here again, and it would be nice to share drink. I must go now, tuck my Song girl in, and also turn in for the evening.  May Pelor light your way in times of darkness, friend.


Hello!  As stated above, our 7 party group is now down to 5, as two of our members wanted to take an extended break over the summer months.  We will all miss them, and it won’t quite be the same playing without them.  

Ana, oh Ana, my Russian Cleric.  She is so troubled, that girl.  She has a dark past and try as she might to be full of light, there is always that piece of darkness that sits in her, doubting, mistrusting, making her wary.  It was difficult to play this out, as she is Neutral Good, and not Lawful Neutral, but I figured Pelor and Cuthbert are allies, and Ana would see a crime against an allied church as something she would not be comfortable with.  I do think Ana would have returned the items, and would not have told on the party, especially the church burning plan, to get them in trouble, but really because she would be concerned with the evilness of the plot.  She would want to try and help them redeem. 

The dark side of her though, the side of her that lives so quietly, was really nervous.  She really felt that Kovu was possibly planning something since the disagreement.  Ana would be very cautious, given her past, so that’s how I played her.

So onward we will go, to adventure, now with 5.  

I am going to go outside soon as the weather is too nice to be trapped inside.  I hope this day finds you all well, and really, go outside!


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Dear Sunday

I have wasted you.

I have done nothing today and really am just thinking of ways to continue to do nothing until 9, when then I can do nothing watching Game of Thrones.

I have sat around watching pretty bad movies, really good movies in Spanish, and an old awards show on a Spanish channel with Spanish subtitles.

I have been forced to eat a rotisserie chicken without a fork or a plate.  I guess wanting the chicken meant I had to eat it in the packaging.  I still did it.  Don’t judge me.  I think I am going to hit up the Ben and Jerry’s in the freezer soon, but I will use a spoon.

We played the adult group last night and I drank a bit of wine at the insistence of my tricksy DM.  I didn’t really fight it much, but today I am pretty much useless.  Sometimes it is just a good thing to have a day where you let things go, let playdoh containers sit on the floor and eat some chicken with your hands.  

Happy Sunday, darlings.  This week will be better.


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In Times of Trial

I like to think of happier thoughts.  Right now, in the minutes before I start my final talk, I am reaching friends.  I am reaching for the memory that comforts me the most.  I am going to share the one that has me in a calm place right now.

As I told you, growing up, I lived in a 6 family apartment building.  I was on the third floor and when you went out to the backyard, there was a space between the two sides.  My mom told me to go stand there, right in the middle.  I went downstairs, not knowing why she told me to go there while she still stood up on the third floor porch.  When I reached the spot, I looked up and there were bubbles coming down at me.  She stood there and just kept blowing the bubbles until I was engulfed in a bubble wonderland.  That’s where I am now, friends, little, laughing, spinning around and around. 

Make something magical happen for someone today, or tomorrow.  You never know when that will become their happiest thought in a dark time.

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Past Musings

A few years ago I wrote an open letter to my friend who was going through some tough times.  I realized I needed to read this myself today, so I am posting here so I have it somewhere I can see it whenever, and also because maybe someone else needs it too.

Girl – what a day.

I can only imagine how you are feeling, I am sure it is not pleasant. I just want you to know a few things.

I am sure this advice is not even needed, as far as people go, you are one of the strongest I know. Even us strong girls occasionally need to pick ourselves off the ground.

Don’t let this define who you are. Remember you did what you could, and you have nothing to be sorry about. You can walk with your head high. You deserve all the respect that can be given to you.

Take a few days and mourn. Cry it out, sit in your pj’s, watch bad movies. Eat ice cream for breakfast, and if you need to, scream it out. When you get it all out, wake up in the morning, shake it all off, and resolve to start from the beginning.

Remember it’s ok to laugh, and if you forget how, call one of the many, many people who love you to remind you how.

About a week ago, I told you that the situation was as low as you can go. I lied, and I am sorry, for I am sure you feel worse now then you did then. Trust this though: There is only up from here. If you need help, we (and I speak for the many) are here. After a crappy rainstorm is usually a rainbow, and yours will be coming really soon.

I wish I could give you a hug, but this is the best I can do. You deserve a lot better then what you have been given.

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Wall of Love

So, I am getting my papers ready for the inevitable.  I typed up everything I knew how, names, dates, addresses.  Soon we’ll be having the final talk, everything in hand, so there are no real surprises later.  There were murmurs of trying, but you can only fit a square peg in a round hole for so long before you just realize that it isn’t going to happen.  So, I did that this morning.  The certificate is in, and the irony doesn’t escape me of needed the certificate to finalize everything else.

It’s easy to feel alone when you are doing this.  Easy to feel like no one can truly understand what this is like, not even myself.  I have never been here, or done anything like this on this level.  I have never had to go to a court and stand in front of someone telling them how things just fell apart.  Justify why they can’t be fixed.  I’m still scared.  I’m scared he’ll have a lawyer and I won’t.  I’m scared that I’ll lose one of the things most important to me in the world.  When I started this train of thought a couple of years ago, I was scared of many more things.  I was scared of being single with three kids.  I was scared of living on my own with only my income.  I was scared of who I would turn to when I just needed to turn to someone.  I was scared of the backlash from everyone.  As time goes on, I am becoming less and less scared, and more able to know what the right course of action is.  I am taking the steps I need to better myself.  When your boy looks at you and says all they want is for you to be happy, you know you are more transparent rather than not.

Here’s where I turn it around and make this into a love post, because this really is about love.  Love, like plants, need to be nurtured to grow.  They need certain things or they just wither and die.  Moving forward this is for the people who are currently nurturing me.

Growing up, we were poor.  Get this – I had no idea.  My mom, being a single mom at the age of 17, managed to have her own place and provided for me everything I needed so I never knew we weren’t living above the poverty line.  I had government cheese growing up, the big block that came in the cardboard box.  My mom would dress me up and do my hair in pigtails that felt so tight I thought my eyes were bulging, and we would walk to go get it.  Mom didn’t have a car, and I didn’t think that was not normal either.  On the way back we would stop at the fountain in front of the City Hall and I would be mesmerized.  I remember once I made a wish that I would get a white frilly dress with strawberries.  I must have spoken aloud, because soon after my Mom gifted me with a white frilly dress with strawberries that she made.

The thing is, my mom was single, but my grandmother lived in the same apartment building, my grandfather was there, and my great grandmother had her own place there too.  Out of the six family apartment building, three were my family  We all worked together, and they all provided me with maybe what was the happiest years of my life.  I never knew how hard she must have struggled, or how tired she must have been after working third shift and me waking her up to color with me; my great grandmother stopping what she was doing when I knocked on her door so I could go through her books; my grandfather watching daytime Soaps with me or my grandmother letting me help her put together her Avon bags.  None of us were alone.

I still have my mom.  My wonderful mom who will drive to another town to pick up Girl1 at the mall because she didn’t want to walk home, or stop over when I am sick to bring me something gluten free.  She will pick me up to play Bingo every Wednesday even though she has homework to do and wouldn’t normally stay.  I think she likes spending the time as much as I do.

I have my lovely girl K, who maybe thinks I did her a favor by letting her come to us when she needed it, but really she saved me and my household.  She brings an air of love, creativity, understanding, to us all.  She listens when I just need to vent, and on nights where she knows I must really need it makes me a full chicken meal so it’s ready when I come in after my 10 hour days.  She never sighs at me when I forget exactly how to end or start my crochet line and tells me my blankets are beautiful even if they look like tree skirts.

I have my group of friends new, and newer, who have come into my life and for a few hours allow me to be someone else.  They provide me with a fantasy world where I can be anyone I want, and have adventures.  They will pass a bottle, help me clean off a chair, and purposely look for gluten free snacks even though I am the only one who has this requirement.

I have my FB friends who like my statuses and help me feel less alone.  They leave me nice words, uplifting thoughts, and just silent strength so I know I can continue on my path.  They send me messages, attempt to make plans with me (I’m hard to tie down, but know I would love to see each of you).  They make me feel not alone.

I have my children, who love me something fierce.  They will come over and hug me when I need it and stay away when I don’t.  They will tell me a funny story, or talk in a funny voice to see me smile. 

I have my worldly friends, and FFAC, who was willing to get on a plane twice, and put me on one once to show me the world.  He never lets me doubt my worth for a moment, and when I start to tells me to knock it off.  He continually finds ways to make me smile, to make me feel valued, even if he is across the world.  He listens to me complain then asks me how I can fix it.  He helps me brainstorm ideas to fix it. 

I also have my new blogging friends as well, who have liked and commented, and shared their views.  I have put my heart out on some of these posts, and been terrified to come clean about a lot of the things I hide.  You have all been supportive and wonderful.  The reason I will throw these real life posts in here is to not feel alone, and also so maybe someone out there doesn’t have to feel alone either.  We aren’t alone.  It may feel like that at times, but out there, we all have someone who understands.

Thank you all, who have been with me, and will continue to walk this journey with me.  Thank you to ones I have mentioned, for feeding my soul and myself.  I really am so lucky that during this time I have such a wonderful wall of love surrounding me.

Until next time, lovies.  Go hug someone.


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It’s time to come clean.  I discovered something about myself today as I was sitting in my unhappy funk at work and it wasn’t pleasant.  I realized I am a charlatan. 

I often post these things, these self discovery moments, and I realized that maybe it appears that I have things together.  I have all these deep thoughts and these grandiose plans on how to move forward with my life.  I sometimes think I will actually be able to do some of them, and to be fair, I am 100% honest when it comes to my feelings at the times of those posts. 

In truth, friends, I am not some deep thinking guru who knows what they are doing.  Most of the time I am not sure if I have matching socks, and as my girl K would tell you, my chapter in her book would be titled “Socks Don’t Match”.

The thing is, I want to be put together.  I want to have the answers and think the deep thoughts, and know what is going to happen in my life.  I want to be in control and at the same time not be in control.  Some very wonderful people have told me that reading my blog inspires them, and I think that is very sweet, but maybe it’s time to tell you the truth.

I am a horrible housekeeper.  I really need help in this department.  I have no organization skills (unless chaos is it’s own form of organization).  Again, I want to be good at it.  I look in awe at people who can make things sparkle when I can just make more piles.  Remember the post about the eraser board on my fridge?  It’s still there, and now I think I use it as a magnet board.

I don’t remember when I washed my floor last.  Actually, I don’t remember where my mop is.  I really should find it.  Come to think about it, I don’t have a mop!  I have a swiffer!  See what I mean?

I do a horrible job at taking care of my gluten free needs.  I am the worst poster child for Celiac’s ever, and sometimes I think I traded in one eating disorder for another kind all together.

I’m scared way more often than I let on.  I am scared of my future, of the next 12 months or so, adapting to a new way of life.

I take horrible pictures of my friends and post them online.  They hate me for this.

I don’t know what to do sometimes.  It’s starting to be sometimes more often than not. 

I’m kinda sad, no matter how much I try to shove it deep down.  I’m more than kinda sad.  I do a horrible job shoving it down, but I still try, because I don’t want to make anyone feel bad.  In reality, I want to just wear my pajama pants all day, not take a shower for a week, roll up in a ball, and eat a lot of ice cream.  I can’t do it, and I won’t do it, because Girl 2 would never get ready in the morning if I was in a ball.  I just really want to be sad for a while though without trying to hide it.  Maybe if I let some out, some happy could come back in but I have this huge issue where I think if I do let that sad out it would make me a weak person. 

I’m quite broken, friends.

On a positive, because I do like to end things on a positive note, I am totally going to garden with my girl K.  We are going to do kiddie pool gardens and grow lots of things, like vegetables!  We are also going to build a herb pallet herb garden because why the heck not!  I am super excited about this since I normally cannot grow anything (though I did have one successful green bean patch!).  I’ll be sure to keep you posted with pics and everything once we get going.  Sustainable farming!  I want to do it!

Til next time, darlings. 


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Thank Heaven for Little Girls

Hello, loveys, come sit with me for a minute.  You may notice I have two coffee pots going at all times now; the Keurig and the regular one.  Feel free to grab something and join me as I try to plan what I am going to do with my free day (which is never a free day, for the record).  

I am doing okay, which is a good thing.  I know I tend to do things, like drop bombshells, and then start talking about D&D or Bingo, but it’s just sort of what I do.  My brain tends to move in many different directions, I mean, look at this blogs title!  I rarely talk about books, or baking, it’s mostly always beyond.  When I started this blog though, I swore I was going to talk to you all about my efforts in books and baking with some other things thrown in.Again I digress. 

Today I want to tell you a story.  Come sit with me and feel free to move around all the things on the table.  I went to the craft store, which is always a dangerous place for me because I get all these grandiose ideas but I have very little skill.  I’m trying though! 

There was a girl, a little girl, who would spend a lot of time in her room.  She had pink walls, a little tv that didn’t get cable, and toys.  She would spend hours just in her room, reading her books, playing with her toys, coming up with stories for all of her dolls.  She would spend time getting each doll ready for their dates for the evening, picking out the perfect dress, putting their hair up in just the right way, looking for matching shoes that weren’t eaten by the cat.  She had friends, sure, and she went outside, but her most favorite times were those that she could spend in her room, making up her own world. 

Her dolls would go on their dates, but the same thing would happen.  They would come home every time, saying the evening was ok, they had a nice dinner and made small talk about the weather.  Each time the little girl hoped, hoped beyond measure, that they would finally find the one.  She saw her mom daily going to work, coming home, sleeping, only to repeat it all over again.  Her mom hadn’t found the one either.

Sometimes the girl would dress up herself and pretend she had a date.  She would do her hair just right, sneak into her moms room and use some of her mom’s makeup and dab a little bit of perfume right around her ear, like she saw her mom.  She would dance in her room, make small talk, and always come home to tell her dolls about what a wonderful evening she had and that she had found the one.  They were going to have dinners together every night and they would go on vacations to Disney World.  She always knew in her heart, this was the one and they would be happily having dinners and touring the Magic Kingdom for the rest of their lives.

The girl grew up and the dolls were pushed to the wayside in favor of posters of boy bands, radios that could tape songs off the radio, and hair accessories.  Sometimes she would come across an old dress that she would play dress up with, or a doll whose leg was chewed by the cat, but they were just pushed to the side.  She would try different hairstyles while singing to her favorite songs.  She seemed so much different than the little girl who had lived in the same room but they had a few things that they had in common.  They still thought about what it would be like to go on dates, to have that moment of clarity, finding that one person who made time stop for them.  She would still practice dancing in her room and she would still sneak into her mom’s room from time to time to borrow some makeup. 

Her mom had found someone by that time, but the girl wasn’t sure if he was the one.  Watching her mom, she didn’t seem as excited as the dolls were, or even the girl when she had pretended to go on these magical dates.  She seemed a little more tired, and she didn’t have as much time anymore.  They still talked, but it wasn’t quite the same. 

The girl grew up even more.  Boy band posters came down and radios were replaced with CD Players.  Boyfriends have since entered the picture, most not lasting very long.  The girl had started to realize that love wasn’t something like books made it out to be, it was not like the TV shows she had watched growing up or the movies.  It usually hurt, and turned ordinary people, even nice people, into not being so nice.  It made enemies from friends and it also made you sad.  She had watched her mom get sadder by the day, until one day she told the girl that things were going to change around the house.  It would be losing one person.

The girl had more adventures with love and instead of fairytales she learned logic.  Logic would not hurt, nor let her down.  Logic wouldn’t hit her, ignore her, tell lies.  Logic wouldn’t make her feel badly about herself.  Logic understood no meant no. 

One day she came across someone that challenged her logic.  There was nothing that made sense about it, in fact, it was the opposite of logic and she didn’t know what to do with that.  The little girl tried to call out, to tell her it was okay, and she should get ready for her date because she was going to dance and have dinners in Disney World for the rest of her life.  She ran away because logically, that made the most sense. 

Left continues, and choices are made.  The girl chose logic, and on the outside it seems to have been the right choice.  She has a comfortable life, not grand, not even close to grand, but comfortable.  She has been blessed with a healthy family and a routine.  There may be quirks, but the quirks she sees in her children remind her of the little girl in the room with her books and dolls.  Inside though, she is just blank.  She is a bit more tired, and she doesn’t seem to have enough time.  She will still talk, but it just isn’t the same.

One day the girl heard a voice.  It was small, so small, but present.  It sounded familiar – a little high pitched, a little scared, kind of shy, but so very familiar.  The girl tried to ignore it, she had things to do, dinners to shop for, time to spend on everyone, but the voice wouldn’t stop.  It started to get louder, but still the girl could push it down.  Work called, everyone needed something first.  Finally, the girl heard a yell that she could not ignore. 


“You didn’t forget how to dance.  You still want to go to Disney World.  You still like to play dress-up even if you don’t want to admit it.  You didn’t forget about me, or this, or things you wanted.  You just learned how to talk yourself out of them.”

Oh how wise little girls are.  I stopped ignoring her and started bringing her back to the surface.  Friday night dance parties she is right with me, dancing with the kids.  I bought make up and sometimes do my hair a little differently.  I went into my mom’s room and I smelled some of her perfumes.  I still prefer mine, but it was nice to do.  I went on vacation and allowed myself to finally truly feel happy.  I wore dresses and skirts and I felt the happiness radiate from me.

In the end, out of all of this, I want to share with you what I have learned, darling friends.  Screw logic.  Don’t let it own you.  Be free and if you aren’t happy, be happy.  Please.  Be happy for you, and for that child inside you who is still doing exactly what they were doing when you left them last.  Feel happiness radiate from you.  Find someone who makes you defy logic, or start looking for that someone.  They exist, and they probably need you just as badly as you need them.  Defy logic.  Be happy.  Stop growing up and find your youth again; our younger selves were smarter than we gave them credit for.


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