21/12 20:59

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Dear Diary,

I think I'm losing myself. What must you think of me? Surely it can't be anything good. I won't - can't kill innocent people.

Yet my dreams tell me otherwise. I enjoy killing in the dreams; why does it seem to be so different in reality? 

But of course you're just a book filled with paper.

And paper can be easily damaged.

Love, Jingle



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