my christmas tree really does hate me. i put the star on the top and pricked my finger with a friggin' pine needle. the kind of cut that really isn't a cut at all but a tiny hole that wouldn't even bleed in the first place if you'd stop squeezing it. but still. it's tasted blood and i'm sure i'll wake up in the middle of the night with it towering over the edge of the bed insisting that i feed it.

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before - random - after