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Summary
Me and Drake. It makes me nostalgic; something about him is permanently in my past. I feel like bisexuality is a childish pursuit that I’ll grow out of soon, but then again, I’m 20. I have 1 more year before I can’t blame an unfinished brain for my shortcomings. I’m going to marry Diana, but I’ll have to explain to her that Drake- despite how he is- is probably here to stay.
Probably.
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Me and Caine… He broils a rage in me no one else can. I don’t like the way he looks at me, I don’t like his manhandling, his attitude, his face, I hate his face. I hate his cologne and his pretentious massive fucking house. I hate how he looks at me.
I’m so glad I shot that kid back in ‘04. So fucking glad I’m at Coates. I don’t know where my hatred would go without Caine.
