I always imagined what she would look like in her wedding dress.
At least my imagination was spot on.
Everything changed in a second.
Everything ended in moment.
Goodbye all.
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It was always a gamble being me. Wanting to strike out on my own but not quite far enough to make an impact in anything but my own life and the subsequent crater I always fall down.
This is the journal come confessional of a man that nobody knows. If we play the percentage game then only one person has known a near majority percentage about me and this represents the rest and more. Bear with me as its an amalgamation, typed from scraps of paper, battered books and half/started half finished ideas. It is the veritable scrapbook of my mind and will take a while to complete.
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