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November 27, 2011
You write things I would write, and sometimes I wonder if you're me. A secret me. A me hidden deep inside that knows things I never will and writes the things I can't bring myself to write.

I am trapped in a fantasy, a delusion, a nightmare that convinces me I never escaped. I merely retreated into my mind and created a safer world inside. Those people who love and help me are creations of my imagination. It is only when you say things I could never think to say that I am reassured that, yes, yes, I am free.