And apparently, I sound very, very creepy.
Unexpected poetry.
What's the matter?
But, honestly, what doesn't?
Is there a right way?
I need to know. For reasons.
That sounds about right.
Jello is forever.
I worry about this all the time.
It was settled out of court.
Maths.
3,2,1.
I apparently got possessed at one point.
Did this page just predict my death?
This happens all of my life. Not just one.
Just so you know.
More maths.
And also a little from a sci-fi thriller.
Take that!
I really do.
Turn around.
much love,
hedgie
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