You're all killing me. I know I don't fit in, I don't belong. I'm different. I know this. You don't decide who I am. What's right for me; how I live my life. You want me around, though; you'll have something to talk about that way. I'll go away. Go back to the place I call home. 1,195 miles away from this. Somewhere I'll fit in, somewhere I'll
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