We're all in this together, or are we?
I feel the pizza pie crust of my ego, some sort of furry furry edge that needs to be dissolved and eradicated.
As Rachel withers, so does her ego. She cries out in pain, and remembers that she is a soul that needs nothing. She needs not friends, comfort, drugs. Just love from an almighty source.
In other news, my dad does not get a weird emotional connotation when he thinks about outer space. If an alien came and visited, it would have the same emotional connotations of an random intruder. Let's not talk about that!, he said.
I compared my dad to Vernon Dursley. He said no that's not him, he's not a bad guy. But then again, the bad guy never thinks he is the bad guy.
And that's where we leave it tonight, folks. The bad guy never thinks he is the bad guy.
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