it always happens like this, doesn't it, diary? something better comes along and then you're shoved to the side. or maybe under the rug.

i've gotten the same spam email 3 times since i've begun writing this entry. i'm growing angry. i don't feel good right now. i think i have the sickness. the plague. the disease.

i forgot to wash the word "water" off of my arm.

and really, i'd rather be there than here. there being in daniel's bed with danielarms around me in the way that makes me feel comfortable and content.

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