look, i'm not perfect ok. i'm full of faults, some ugly, some pretty, some innocent, some vile. my father doesn't love me because i look like his mother, my mom doesn't like me because i remind her of my father. my sib left. i can concentrate, but i care too much. i'm not flippant about anything. i like socializing, but i need more alone time. i'm ugly and it makes me cry. no one suffers the way i do about things, it's why i'm always alone. the only thing i have is my imagination. i'm an artist, i'm more worried about my unborn children because the world isn't safe for them.
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