I don't really want to post and don't really have anything to say. But since I have to, I figured I'd put this up as it embodies my moods currently:
Lisa: They're just - they're just begging to be pressed, and it makes me wonder, it really makes me fucking wonder, why doesn't anyone ever press mine? Why am I so neglected? Why doesn't anyone reach in and rip out the truth and tell me that I'm a fucking whore, or that my parents wish I were dead?
Susanna: Because you're dead already, Lisa!
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