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London.

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18.09 My eyes are sunken, and I'm picking at the skin on my right thumb. I stare at nothing, although I hear absolute...
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I know I'm going to be ok.

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It feels utterly bizarre to type this; not to mention I feel utterly and completely liberated by the fact I can now complete these words and...
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September.

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1.09.2015 I am a disaster painted in red, Ticking clock laying in my head, Tellin I’m running out of fucking time, Broken heart...
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