No pick up a brush as I collapse, as if this stupid piece of wood weighed tons? And then another, then a small fish mural copy of a catalog of interior design with a mother who has decided to decorate the room of her offspring, and will probably end up hating when you are fourteen and repudiate their sheets and blankets circus dogs printed. All liability, all for dirty and filthy money, smelly scum will not even be mine, figures that others play and I am slave.
I would burn all the ropes that bind me, but the most stout stem from my mind, and she, as always, is stronger than me. I'm tired of losing even my own games.
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