Not the cat part. The struggle part.
So many people I love are hurting so much. Which means I hurt too.
I feel stretched past the limit, I feel empty, I feel drained.
There's little I can do. I just have to be.
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I'll post some bathroom graffiti pix from the ladies room at the Streamline.
Words of semi-wisdom from girls on the pot.
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And there is happy on the horizon. My man is in the 206 for what looks like awhile. It's scary and exciting and mystifying all at once. I want it to be good. I want to not fuck it up. I just want to live.
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