My moods fluctuate violently so often, that it's no longer funny.
Can I just.... quit being me?
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Each star in the sky represents a fragment of memory a person has. Some burn brightly, others, they just shine, illuminating our lives.
1 comment:
hey, don't quit being you! who will be patient enough to bear with me in my worst manja moods? or share the great bits of her life with me? or call me weird names that only you can think of?
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