Or Maybe Not, Marisa.

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Don’t you just hate nights like that, when you think over every mistake you’ve made, every hurt you’ve received, every bit of meanness you’ve dealt out? There’s no profit in it, no point to it, and you need sleep.
Charlaine Harris, Dead and Gone (via h-o-r-n-g-r-y)

(Source: larmoyante, via helpfvl)