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You’re So Fucking Special

Every year around this time, for obvious reasons, I indulge in a little bit of looking back. It’s not a stance I favor, for more obvious reasons. Yet here we are again, approaching the end of August – the turn of summer – and we pause for this moment of reflection. My bags are packed, Andy is in the bedroom finishing his own packing, and I am listening to this song, wondering if anybody else is listening.

It’s a tricky time, this end of August. It’s still summer, but the winds have changed, the sun has shifted its slant and angle in the sky – and the sky… the sky… becomes its truest blue. Everything glows differently at the end of summer.

I don’t care if it hurts…
I want to have control…
I want a perfect body…
I want a perfect soul…

I want you to notice when I’m not around.

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