I met up with an old flame today and she bored the living daylights out of me. I simply wanted to tear her clothes off and ravage her. But conversation-wise: ugh.
Romance is dead. Long live self-centredism! I literally went through the same shit the other day.
The hero and the coward both feel the same thing, but the hero uses his fear, projects it onto his opponent, while the coward runs. It's the same thing, fear, but it's what you do with it that matters. Cus D'Amato
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