Mended Musings

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  I always go back to 17, most often when I’m driving and listening to music. A song will remind me of how much I hated myself that year and I’m back there, looking at 1987 like a white cross on the roadside. It’s the year I told. It’s the year I lost control of everything. It’s the year I spent two weeks in a psychiatric facility and wished I could stay… Read More