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“we’re born as blank canvases and it’s our parents job to make us beautiful and complete paintings. you have splashed angry, bright red paint over what could have been a beautiful portrait. you didn’t keep your brushstrokes light and colorful, you threw your brushes to the ground and splashed that angry red all over me. try as i might, and i really do try, i’ll never fully be able to cover that red paint. it’ll always be lingering, the undertones to a self portrait. the subtext of an autobiography.”
-from my letter to my mother <3