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sweetness follows. fallow fathers.
"so you got a smackdown, and it wasn't fair. and then you got another one - a spanking from a daddy replacement ...you're still awfully whiny. You know what you should have done. You should have gone to the ..."
She stroked the beloved countertop looking for a wifi password somewhere to connect.
"Mother, our family motto 'shoulda, coulda, woulda' is done like I told you. It's killing us. We have a new motto 'it is what it is' and I KNOW it's a blatant dang cliche, but it's going to save my life. we call it 'acceptance theory' in the biz."
And she does bother to listen to Maria's lament on her luxurious purchase of the $10/moon of music of my choice... she joked that in her first marriage (what am I here for you'd wonder if not a minor lament) she got money and more importantly a hard drive with all of the music she'd collected with her spouse and them together. She's now lost it. So much lost [DO NOT THINK ABOUT IT!].
Many have not asked her but many have assumed there were good times that she laments. The question alluded to:
Why Wasn't I More Grateful When Life Was Sweet?
You know it haunts us all don't you? All of us breakers. The only way it will ever make sense is that it won't make sense. The fifty third turn around the sun is not going to bring light to that child's day. She's stuck there and in a scarcaphgus in Egypt trying to disappear, yet you'll find in life that those bubbles.
They burst.
my hypothesis of why you didn't grab the nectar of life and suck it like a maniac on life love luck is that you were so empty that getting filled a tiny bit filled you with the pure drug of being loved by someone (you always have to think this whether it's true or not to survive) who is lovely.
I already told you that other Taylor Swift song - 'chasing that pain. chasing that fame.' that did her first marriage in. She still whines around on the floor gnashing at the thought that everything she ever wanted is something she has had twice - two gardens in two cute homes in the town she adores with all her heart.
fuck exile. fuck it more when you do it to yourself and become someone that is a rinse/repeat not an evolved.
Narcissist. Now everyone has stolen that term from her. She's the one that called it early on. When you're looking at this, it's a mirror. Well, that's more for me personally, for you - you're a reader. (hey!). The rain is in the land of Oaks today and the old asian man walks his dog in the pink raincoat. She still thinks of the homeless as she lives in the front door of an open air madhouse of a society. She imagines the hatred felt for a dog that gets to have a bed and a meal.... yet homeless man, I'll tell you she had that lithe light dancer-like Pacific Islander man who whacked her back once (not five times like ole big MIT beer gut dude - girls have knives. men have guns.) say that to her - beg in a way "mahal, can I be your cat. I'll just be here coming in and you can feed and pet me."
"I'm pretty sure I was a lead role in a cage dammit...."
Humans are not the best pets Perry. I disagree. She definitely saw the point of the dude. He was hiding from legal status and just wanted to chill like a pet. It's pretty normal desire: wanting to make the choices. wanting to control.
Maria, don't beat yourself up about the life and the non gratitude for appreciating the sweetness part. If you really want the answer, let me think for a second.
Answer: you insisted on keeping on worrying about the next....
but enough about her. she you me but hardly ever a he, yet all of her life has been the vampire
the hard truth. her disease is very vampire. perhaps it's ancient.
dormant, docile, weak until the necked warm vessel once sucked that always gives power
we'll call it blood.
She thinks of the stage. Shakespeare meant so much to her when she met him. Of all the XXX years we've been apart, it's titalating for her to see the programming/codes that remain "You are a writer. never stop." coach B!
mrs. John smith III It's been a while since you've famed my shame cave welcome back queen of the hack.
Got another blood bank for your adorable faces.
While we anger ourselves laughing at your old misplacements suck it up Raw Buttered Up
Our deplorable. shut her up
oh Maria, apparently gratitude is akin to service... "they" say it helps in the evolving... I'll let you know and so will she.
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