The final hour begins… While

The final hour begins…

While Mom loved to tell me I was beautiful, she actually wasn’t big on appearances. She looked the dyke part–she had little understanding of makeup, dresses, and other female accessories. I remember her having one tube of lipstick, and that’s it. Oh, and one green dress, but once it was worn out, she stuck with more practical clothes. I’ve inherited this from her. I can dress up, but it’s not important to me. That’s something I like about myself. A freedom she gave to me. I place a much higher premium on my intellect.

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