-Zsuzsikam
Yeah ,whatever, but holidays? Not likely. Mother and I kept cleaning
like f-all, and for nothing as usual.
Murder festers in my black heart.
Life itself is a kurva. Bazd meg the devil. I am swallowed up with icy
rage; with fury, with dying, with the implacable progression of eternal
rot and decay.
Kisskiss sweetheart.
Lucien
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