I remember the stupidest things. Like, I can barely recall what the fuck happens in the entirety of harry potter and the half blood prince, but I can remember that harry had 'a cheap lemon lolly' when he went to the zoo for dudley's birthday in the first book, and when seamus is reassuring harry that he'll be fine playing quidditch, he's 'piling ketchup onto his sausages'.
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my crappy, existential thoughts dump
Randomnote from the far future, in much better times; consider this book a diary, an archive, a live day by day biography- of the lowest point of my life so far. draw entertainment from it, by all means, but take it as a warning, of all the bad that comes...