You're not your job. You're not how much money you have in the bank. You're not the car you drive. You're not the contents of your wallet. You're not your fucking khakis. You're the all-singing, all-dancing crap of the world.
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But are we trying to be what we post on our blogs? I think we are!
De qué me suena eso?
Por cierto, el poema de cuando eras pequeña es muy grande!
besos
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