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Fuck you, 2013.

December 31, 2013

Really. That’s all I have to say, except that if there existed a wine name “fuck off and die,” I’d buy cases of it, given two provisos: a) it was a screwtop because I’m that fucking classy, and b) it wasn’t a cab sauv.

Happy New Year.

2014 is my year of silence. I may write here, but the less I say aloud/in public, the better.

(My doctor has taken me off of Wellbutrin, and I’m hoping to get my sanity back soon before I do something stupid like try to talk to MTIA (who won’t speak to me at all but is now listed s in a relationship) or TLTL (who just got tired of trying to cheer me up, I guess) again. I hope they both die of cirrhosis. My sister didn’t deserve to die. Why do so many shitty people get to keep living?)

Fuck you, 2013.

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