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Click hereEvery song about a jilted lover reminds me that I'm to blame. That I have no claim to the pain.
I've never hated myself more than when I think of you.
Why am I hitting replay?
Only now reading this piece — read over and over, and felt. Hope that you share this “side” of your talent.
I love this. Each sentence (including the fragment) cleanly states a different, related idea. Like a haiku in traditional form, the last line expresses a distilling image. Beautiful.
That's it. My 64 chapters and stories, and 550,000 words submitted (to date), weren't enough. I really needed this to push me over the top. Busted.
You are not a masochist - you just want to clock up titles on your list of publications. This is lazy, meaningless, pretentious bullshit.