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Weave A Way to the Land Called Passive Aggresiva
Uhm, so I'm Vanessa... uhm, let's say Kra. So. I'm Vanessa Kra, and I guess I'm writing a fancy description. Aherm. It's 1/5/14, and in another year approximately, we'll be thinking, 'boy, that year passed by quickly,' and it's funny thinki
I have exasperatingly insatiable mood swings, where one second everything is pleasant and the next I'm scowling at anyone who makes the slightest noise. Like, "Hi friend! Now get the hell outta my face." talk2hand

I really ought to be nicer despite myself, 'cause I had this awfully lonely dream where I unintentionally killed a security guard who had been chasing me, from which point I proceeded my escape from suspicions through an unfamiliar middle school campus, nearly being compromised by the cops, and ran desperately to my "dream" house (which just so happened, silly dreamscape logic, to be my old house in SF) and pend my impending doom and overwhelming guilt, and when the dream versions of my brother, mother, and dog arrived with cheerful smiles to greet me, I only felt lonelier.

So yeah, I awoke with a distinct phase of dread and the mild revelation that I really don't want to been in dream-me's hopeless isolation, and that to avoid such disposition I also really don't want to let my mood swings conquer me from diminishing my already-miniscule social life. emotion_0A0



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