So many more things:
My pipe: John Paul, from Haight
Object of confusion: Nick
Idea for future: in music composition, heavy percussion in rolling triplets, harp, beatboxing.
Plague: studying...ew
Alc: Sangria...let's make it
Crush: Isaiah?
Where is he going? He has taken my concept of personality and accepted it and now he is accepting someone else, perhaps? this is the only thing that is sad at all. Not the ex, but that maybe I wasn't good enough to be next she. That maybe, he's just not that into me. And rather into the Barbie doll, and I am too much of a hippie to be any kind of Barbie. Fuck it. I never liked plastic anyway.
There must be some kind of way out of this intrinsically established personality definition that I have attributed to myself, in relation to interpersonal stauses. But I kinda don't think I'm the problem anymore.
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