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I’m bloody 22 today! It feels good. In commemoration of my birthday, my mother sent me some pictures of me throughout the years. I’m quite astounded at how similar I look as a child to how I do as an adult, really. But no matter how old I get, I know what my favourite photo of me shall always be:

I am amused that my parents had that book. If only they knew just what was in store for many years to come.

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