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十二

Again and again and again and again and again. Wasted potential, wasted talent, wasted time, wasted motivation I had an idea for this too, yknow? But I couldn't make anything of it. I had yet another idea and another idea. And when I promised, I had another idea. All of it? Gone, thrown into a metaphorical wastebin. All because I can't continue anything. I don't care anymore; you're getting what I want; you're getting what comes to mind. It could derail into madness; it could be beautiful; it could be horrible. I have simply given up.


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