Typos

Some day we shall arise from "hole in the wall" subsistence or descend into "woe in the hall" existence, depending on how our lives are spun.

All my life I have paid the price, toed the line, and acted nice(ly). When does it pay off?

When are we finished? When will it be over and how will I know? Can I come off of medications? Do we end therapy? I need permission to pursue my dreams.

If I am called to achieve goals set by other people then I want a voice in the matter.

Perfunctory issues make me sick, leave me empty, and smite this juvenile life with sorrow.

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