Lisa Mcbee

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Maybe, I think to myself, underneath it all, I am not this awful person, but a caring, loving little boy. Maybe that has never left me, even after everything. So why do I want to blot that out? Why do I want to kill off the person that I am? Why do I always want to become this unfeeling monster, fueled by whatever chemicals I can find to put in my body?
Tweak: Growing Up On Methamphetamines
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