Please, no ass-fucking behind the athletics shed

He doesn’t laugh. That’s the first thing you notice about him.

The second: He is dehydrated and chronically dying. My mother belittles this.

I take all problems seriously.

It’s odd that no one can understand things objectively like I can.

I’ll do my best to help but…

No one really cooperates, and my brother (who left recently) knows this.

Both brothers are gone now. I’m glad for them, they’re better off.

I’m so sorry for yelling at my best friend behind his back.

Really, I’ve been hiding the psychosis instead of attacking it. I didn’t know how to, though.

It’s been rough. Life is strange.

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