There are so many different people in me.

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I've never followed an algorithm. I'm not sure of who I am because there are so many different people in me. There are nights where the wild in me wants to indulge in unspeakable acts. Then they are followed by the mornings where I feel like bathing in holy water and drowning those same unspeakable sins. Instead, I swim in white rose petals and milk to try and sanctify the filth I willingly indulge in. Is it bad that milk always reminds me of cum? Holy water and cum. I mean, they were both created by the same God, right? Close enough. 

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