Ficly

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i use my vocal chords in a morally corrupt manner because most things don’t make sense; therefore i’m a glaze-eyed dreamer incessantly imagining the life of my next door neighbour.
i live a big life in a small town. i share beds with my friends and wine with strangers. i’m an albums junkie and revel in the fact i’m not meant for this decade.
one more thing: if i die tomorrow, can you return my library books for me?

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