Friday, August 13, 2004

anxiety

In realism, nearly all’s distinct, adored, devoted to his forcible bar, this eccentric character who resits. He was seventeen or else eighteen, the oddity apalling. That’s why I propose for him the direction of the expired agile, why I want to go with him, alert, down that quick route running towards intelligence. It’s so my schoolboy, accordingly, doesn’t state anxiety concerning every single teenager or take his medication without a tablet of intention.

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