What will I type? What message am I oddly eager to send, although once I begin typing I have to force myself to continue. This terrible apathy that I have acquired, where I care not when I see my mother rotting away, a wasted life, why do I feel the need to add one more silly post in the thousands that languish here already. In this curious journey of reaching another state of mind, I find myself hating my apathy, oh the irony. All that we, the youth at least, need is a sense of purpose. And if not that, then we would oh so […]
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