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Stares and Fright.

..but si when people look at me, they think me ni punk.Yes, because you’re very pretty.You giggle; it’s throaty.
Like a laugh that won’t grow up.You want to talk. I want to stare. Yeah.. but you know I don’t like it.What? Being pretty or people staring?You look daggers at me. What do you think? Duuh! Silly. The staring. You slap my thigh.
It stings.
I perish the thought.
Lucky me. My jeans are freshly scrubbed.You sit beside me, thighs touching.Yeah.. that’s why I pass here. My bro showed me this chuom here.Haina usororaji.True..this is better. I also really don’t like being watched.
Now pass me my blunt.I dab silently, I’m thinking of you. The chemical euphoria slowly gives way to a silent calm.You know I’ve never had sex?Waaaah!!  I’m patronizing. You must know I won’t believe.
You feel you have to tell me, I listen.I just feel like I should start when it’s right.But I know Stoner chicks are kinda loose.I don’t mean to be belligerent.
I assume you understand.Haaaaar!! Not me,…

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