Damned to any which way.
Go ahead, make my day...no, really.
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This is not a blog. This is me and you realizing that we are going to be stuck in the same room for more than an hour. This is waking up on Christmas day and finding no snow on the ground. This is eighteen years of me, Josh, loving being alone, but hating being lonely. This, to be honest, is more than a little shitty. But, so is life, that some were meant to be socially inept. I can't hope to create anything other than weird static noise, a knock on the back door, or a bloom of an electric flower with this unnamed thing- but whatever comes from this, is genuinely personal. My true beliefs, interests, and so-and-on. I can't promise that this thing that I am making will be interesting to anyone, but then what is the point of even trying? This is a statement: that life is inert, and not trying is asinine. So, thought this may be a worthless attempt, at least an attempt was made. Because this is not a blog. This is my footnote.
Large Marge is responsible for many of my sleepless nights when I first laid eyes on her in the summer of ‘99…. It was the worst accident that road had ever seen… -shivers-

Large Marge is responsible for many of my sleepless nights when I first laid eyes on her in the summer of ‘99…. It was the worst accident that road had ever seen… -shivers-