Holidays: me actually prancing to the living room saying 'prance prance prance prance' in a sing-song tone, and then stopping at the living room, looking at my brother, and saying "I pranced" in a slightly creepy tone.
Holidays: me being reduced to talking with my brother's plush giraffe.
Holidays: feeling useless and unproductive.0
Can't we ever stop loathing and start loving ourselves?
Seems, for now, to be an unattainable goal.
Douglas Adams, you should get to writing about this.
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