I hate most things now. Their outfits, your voice, how everything is too loud all the time, the way my first and sending proud teachers fell the need to scream at 8 in the morning. I hate you. I hate my art, I hate my writing, I hate my voice, my personality, my clothes, my body, I hate when people say it will get better, I hate when pale say it could be worse, I hate that I don't care, I hate myself the most
I also really fucking hate 67
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