my parents, each for her/his own reason, were quite successful in destroying any nascent hopes (illusions?) I *might* have (successfully?) nurtured had I had less - cruel? destructive? jealous (my *goddess*, what the *fuck* kind of person is jealous of a fucking three-year-old???)
Dad punctured the bubbles, smashed the hopes and dreams with his 'truth' stick, his penchant for harsh, cold, cruel reality; and ø? just looked the other way.
Buh-BYE, don't let the door hit y'all in the backside ON YOUR WAY OUT.
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