I'm fourteen. Ready to chase chicks, ready for a first failure, ready to look forward and - due to unexplainable enigmatic reasons - to look back as well. Feel strong, feel masculine, macho, yet vulnerable and depressed at times, too.
Fast forward to 2006. Not much changed. Thousands of dollars wasted on anesthetics and nothing helped. How many were there and how many more will it take?
Oh, I better drop it, for fuck's sake. It's just one of these days.
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