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As I gaze upon what I had written in my Juinor High School yearbook, an inevitable cringe washes over me. Yet, a delightful irony unfolds as I recall that my 16-year-old self deliberately crafted those words to elicit this very reaction. A mischievous grin adorns my lips.

I have always been one to embrace a sense of mischief, even if it means causing havoc upon myself along the way.

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