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I like talking to LaFlamme because he is the only one person I've met who seems to listen and remember what I said, unlike many other people just being polite and pretending to be listening, especially English people. He could be pretending, too, but at least he remembers some.

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Those four months from March to end of June at home felt so painful that I physically couldn't breathe: I suddenly cut my life of freedom short; I didn't know whether I would get my degree or not; I missed the cuddle so much; I looked forwards to seeing him again so much.

Although the environmental condition at the moment is not different from that period of time after I got back from my backpacking alone trip, I feel a bit better, despite the enormous depression after travelling.

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Oh, mikiko, I've actually always known who she is since he uploaded photos of them on L.E. when he had told me that he didn't have the right to let me go up there. That is something very minor that has been haunting me and made me feel really sick and down whenever I thought of it. It seems he's liked her the most and she is sooooo NOT attractive. Get rid of it. It's none of my business.

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I don't know if it was fortunate or unfortunate. P LaFlamme is the kind of person I wished to meet, an evil kind. I'm glad I've met one for real. He's become one real human being who knows my mind that much in the world so far. He must be very weird himself.

The story was just like what I had imagined before I went to London. I chose the date to arrive in London before Halloween really on purpose. Spooky, eh?

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'1. relax. 2. it doesn't matter' these two sentences changed me a lot a lot a lot and a lot. The travel pictures of me taken this time (summer 2007) look way different from those old ones. That is the proof.