FORGIVE MY UTTER LACK OF PROPER WORDING. EVERY. SINGLE. MOMENT. OF. EVERY. DAY. I'M SURE I'LL FAIL MOST OF MY CLASSES BECAUSE INSTEAD OF NOTES I STARE BLANKLY AT A WALL AND THINK OF YOU.
TEN YEARS FROM NOW YOU SAY? I'M SURE I COULD WORK SOMETHING OUT, BUT IF STREBOR DOESN'T APPROVE AND SCRATCHES ME COULD YOU KISS IT BETTER? :'[
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