If no one bears witness to the small moments of my life, am I even living?
I am not certain anymore.
Being born and raised in the south should have made me more inbred and less tolerant, but something went wrong in the grand scheme of these damned rebels.
a bad driver with a record to prove it,
a connoisseur of stand-up comedy,
the eldest child,
an aware procrastinator,
the result of my mother losing her virginity,
a lover of music,
a pretty shit liar,
late to any event no matter what,
myself without apology.
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