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In the south, it's the backporch.
The south. The south. The south.
It's a metaphor for gone with the wind.
I can never be blase and put a kimono on and roll my eyes at husband and watch the tube, stuff my face, watch the tube.
Because it's gone.
This security.
The dye has been cast the damage is done.
I'm off to smoke then i'll come back and write you a bit...
(pause of some minutes)
When love spoke, I knew no wrong (promised myself that I would write the first line that ipod random gave me).
Ah the next song (hit fast forward) is "sugar daddy took me to wonderland. gave me so many presents I could not stand to see you. I really couldn't stand to see you"
Not all of it was enabling. Don't be tapping into my biggest shame. But isn't that what father's do? give security. give acceptance. Mark gave birth to me in a way. I'm but a teen emotionally.
Oh a fool.
Now off to smoke for real and not lie when I say it's a long pause. You hate it when I lie.
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