There may be things wrong with me. Indeed, there may be a long long list of things wrong with me. But who else can dance around, ecstatic, to Soft Cell at 6:20am?
You're reading this, so you must have too much time on your hands. It's just my lame attempts to communicate with the world, or myself. What I'm trying to communicate, I ain't so sure... All resemblance to any people, living or dead, is purely coincidental.
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