it's real that I don't have a family to come home to OR a loving home at all.
it's real that my twin is such a fucked up loser.
it's real that I have no friends besides those who reply to my keyboard ramblings.
it's real I lost so much this year and continue to lose.
it's real that she said that.
it's real that I said that.
it's real that I need to pinch pennies.
it's real that I had that accident.
it's real that I have manic episodes like this.
it's real, and I'm thankful that I should be ok by tomorrow with the help of fancy cigarettes, tea, and maybe an Irish coffee.
who's going to save my soul now?
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