Some more Freud

Imagine that a bird flies over, and bombs away most of your life. After a while these same people return to you and say ‘yeah but we had to do that, because we read Freud’. Get real. And for your info: I do not think of my mother when I’m…

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When I write irreparable…

…then I mean irreparable. So don’t come up with more therapy, or whatever you want to call that freakshow. Well just in between, it’s pretty obvious how the interactions between me and anything that remotely resembles chess world will be (and largely already had become anyway). Permabans. If you don’t…

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