I'm terrible with post-marathon/training loss of endorphins. I do lots of big things and then when they're over I'm all depressed cause, "What the fuck do I do now?" I hate everything. My writing. The world. Writing about the world. Everybody. Everything. My (500) Days of Summer DVD being a punk-ass bitch. Thankfully,
meret managed to stave off my
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and hopefully, our lovely hackthis will be writing on that? *v*
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It's funny the things you find hot. My favourite is the nail scratches on the back, despite showing virtually nothing, it makes my breath catch. (Second favourite is the girl under the table, but that one didn't surprise me. I know I think that's hot.)
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