The end. Of Autumn term, of the year. Towards Christmas. Towards presents towards money towards festivals. I am sick of having unnecessary fat. I am sick of me. I am sick of not being anyone else. Urrrrrrrgh.
Entering the Inferno, you would imagine I could at least write about it.
Changed the name of the blog, it's more fitting.
I wish I was gutsy enough to run away to Belgium.
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Foetal bones breaking
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