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Ever since I made up my mind to live the way I wanted to live, I’ve been provided for.�
Old oak trees, dripping with Spanish moss, stand guard among the palm trees,
(my father has a fear of medium rare that rivals what people feel about circus clowns and rattlesnakes)—and
My California life, my adulthood, quietly folds itself up like a map and tiptoes away. Nobody but me even sees it go.
went through some kind of unfortunate cleansing or deprogramming situation.
