July 2012
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Joan Jett
was pretty fucking good tonight. Row 8 was cool.
Minus the drunk man to my left.
But other then that I swear Joan Jett thrusted towards me ;)
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watching
my mom cry over her brother dying last night was one of the hardest things to see.
Everyone leaves, but death has an extra nasty way of proving it. We’re all alone in the end.
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I really
fucked things up. And it hurts like hell not having her around to talk to anymore.
I need to control myself when I get pissed.
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that feeling when your stomach twists and you feel numb yet everything seems to hurt.
it fucking sucks.
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