There was a time when I would draw everyday. Well into the night, blasting my music quietly in my headphones. Dirty hands, head lightened by the thick smell of marker. Riddled with teenage angst and a broken heart I would draw late hours in pen and ink, broken cites and anti-heroes. What fun... So why waste my days in a call center, inspecting Mexico insurance policies? Your guess is as good as mine. I could progress a lot farther if I tried. Here's the difference of four years in high school.
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