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Realizing that cartoons aren’t real and life will never be as colorful and wacky and fun as the looney tunes probably fucked me up more than I realized. Going through life knowing I’ll never truly be friends with Bugs Bunny and the gang is something I think way too much about and it leads to me becoming very depressed. One day I’ll die and be forgotten yet Bugs will live in and remain in the public consciousness so long as there’s money in it.
I lie. Daily, hourly, always. If I have a problem, I create a tall tale to solve the problem. In front of my colleagues I lie to sound interesting. I am a master in it, I can mix reality and story so well with each other that no one can tell I am lying.
The only problem that concerns me so far is that I am such a good liar that I sometimes cannot remember if the said is true or not.
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