jsometimes i lean back with a buddha sack and my mind wanders to my ancestor, left all alone in the world as a child after his father was hanged for poisoning and murdering the rest of his family, and for trying to kill him as well, only miraculously my little ancestor hung on...i imagine he was sickly and pale as hell, just like me...alone. sensitive. and strong. he'd be one of those skinny
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