Note de jurnal

Conform principiului ca o veste proasta nu vine niciodata singura, weekendul asta am fost lovita din toate directiile si pe toate planurile.
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If I could turn back time
If I could find a way
I’d take back those words that hurt you and you’d stay

I don’t know why I did the things I did
I don’t know why I said the things I said
Pride’s like a knife it can cut deep inside
Words are like weapons they wound sometimes.

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As vrea sa retraiesc aprilie. I failed.
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Am aflat ca iti poate fi greata de la nedormit.
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Mi-am cumparat un pachet de tigari. Am fumat deja 2 si ma urasc pentru asta.
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Caut un dermatolog bun.
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O sa treaca (imi tot repet asta in speranta ca o sa cred … poate daca si scriu … cine stie?)

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