Random: I just remembered a completely vivid memory of being, like, five years old at Disney Land and walking out of a theater and my back and arms were covered in blood for some reason and then my mom and dad frantically cleaning it off me. Well. Goodnight!
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OH MY GOD OH MY GOD WE HAVE HAVE A VAGUE CONFIRMATION FROM BROTHER THAT THIS ACTUALLY HAPPENEDpic.twitter.com/5I6ydxvtpM
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Like for real. I've been going back into a lot of childhood in therapy cause I don't remember much (for lots of reasons). But why the hell was I covered in blood at disneyland when I was 5? Why do my parents not remember it? This happened. We remember it. I swear I remember it.
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After much discussion, my brother and I have concluded that our parents are trying to suppress the memory of them sacrificing our forgotten third brother, Hank, to the Disney Gods.
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End of conversation
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I got the espresso! Just now!
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Brother will validate the perceived experience, then you'll be onto some Candle Cove shit.
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