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280 pages, Kindle Edition
First published May 1, 2018
It doesn’t matter whether we know what’s good or bad for us, I thought. It doesn’t fucking matter one bit.
❝𝙰 𝙿𝚒𝚜𝚌𝚎𝚜 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚗𝚎𝚟𝚎𝚛 𝚐𝚘𝚘𝚍 𝚊𝚝 𝚛𝚎𝚜𝚝𝚛𝚊𝚒𝚗𝚝, 𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚝𝚒𝚖𝚎 𝙸 𝚠𝚊𝚜 𝚍𝚎𝚍𝚒𝚌𝚊𝚝𝚎𝚍 𝚝𝚘 𝚙𝚞𝚗𝚒𝚝𝚒𝚟𝚎 𝚜𝚒𝚕𝚎𝚗𝚌𝚎 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚖𝚊𝚔𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚑𝚒𝚖 𝚠𝚊𝚗𝚝. 𝙷𝚎 𝚠𝚒𝚕𝚕 𝚋𝚎 𝚋𝚊𝚌𝚔 𝚜𝚘𝚘𝚗, 𝙸 𝚝𝚘𝚕𝚍 𝚖𝚢𝚜𝚎𝚕𝚏. 𝙷𝚎 𝚑𝚊𝚜 𝚝𝚘 𝚋𝚎.❞
❝𝙸 𝚕𝚘𝚘𝚔𝚎𝚍 𝚘𝚞𝚝 𝚊𝚝 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚘𝚌𝚎𝚊𝚗. 𝙸𝚝 𝚠𝚊𝚜 𝚊𝚜 𝚝𝚑𝚘𝚞𝚐𝚑 𝙸 𝚑𝚊𝚍𝚗'𝚝 𝚗𝚘𝚝𝚒𝚌𝚎𝚍 𝚒𝚝 𝚋𝚎𝚏𝚘𝚛𝚎, 𝚘𝚛 𝚑𝚊𝚍𝚗'𝚝 𝚠𝚊𝚗𝚝𝚎𝚍 𝚝𝚘 𝚜𝚎𝚎 𝚒𝚝. 𝙸 𝚠𝚊𝚜 𝚜𝚌𝚊𝚛𝚎𝚍 𝚘𝚏 𝚒𝚝𝚜 𝚠𝚒𝚕𝚍 𝚊𝚖𝚋𝚒𝚟𝚊𝚕𝚎𝚗𝚌𝚎, 𝚜𝚘 𝚙𝚘𝚠𝚎𝚛𝚏𝚞𝚕 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚊𝚖𝚘𝚛𝚙𝚑𝚘𝚞𝚜, 𝚕𝚒𝚔𝚎 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚍𝚎𝚙𝚛𝚎𝚜𝚜𝚒𝚘𝚗 𝚒𝚝𝚜𝚎𝚕𝚏. 𝙸𝚝 𝚍𝚒𝚍𝚗'𝚝 𝚐𝚒𝚟𝚎 𝚊 𝚏𝚞𝚌𝚔 𝚊𝚋𝚘𝚞𝚝 𝚖𝚎. 𝙸𝚝 𝚌𝚘𝚞𝚕𝚍 𝚎𝚊𝚝 𝚖𝚎 𝚠𝚒𝚝𝚑𝚘𝚞𝚝 𝚎𝚟𝚎𝚗 𝚔𝚗𝚘𝚠𝚒𝚗𝚐. ❞
lıllılı.ıllı.ılılıılıı.lllııılı.
⇄ ◃◃ ⅠⅠ ▹▹ ↻
❝𝙸 𝚑𝚊𝚍 𝚊𝚕𝚠𝚊𝚢𝚜 𝚝𝚑𝚘𝚞𝚐𝚑𝚝 𝚘𝚏 𝚍𝚎𝚙𝚛𝚎𝚜𝚜𝚒𝚘𝚗 𝚊𝚜 𝚑𝚊𝚟𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚗𝚘 𝚜𝚑𝚊𝚙𝚎. 𝚆𝚑𝚎𝚗 𝚒𝚝 𝚖𝚊𝚗𝚒𝚏𝚎𝚜𝚝𝚎𝚍 𝚊𝚜 𝚊 𝚏𝚎𝚎𝚕𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚘𝚏 𝚎𝚖𝚙𝚝𝚒𝚗𝚎𝚜𝚜, 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚌𝚘𝚞𝚕𝚍 𝚒𝚗𝚓𝚎𝚌𝚝 𝚜𝚘𝚖𝚎𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚒𝚗𝚝𝚘 𝚒𝚝: 𝚊 𝟹 𝙼𝚞𝚜𝚔𝚎𝚝𝚎𝚎𝚛𝚜, 𝚊 𝚠𝚊𝚕𝚔, 𝚜𝚘𝚖𝚎𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚝𝚘 𝚔𝚒𝚗𝚍 𝚘𝚏 𝚐𝚒𝚟𝚎 𝚒𝚝 𝚊 𝚗𝚎𝚠 𝚏𝚘𝚛𝚖. 𝚈𝚘𝚞 𝚌𝚘𝚞𝚕𝚍 𝚙𝚎𝚗𝚎𝚝𝚛𝚊𝚝𝚎 𝚒𝚝 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚐𝚒𝚟𝚎 𝚒𝚝 𝚖𝚘𝚛𝚎 𝚘𝚏 𝚊 𝚜𝚑𝚊𝚙𝚎 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚏𝚎𝚕𝚝 𝚋𝚎𝚝𝚝𝚎𝚛 𝚊𝚋𝚘𝚞𝚝. 𝙾𝚛 𝚊𝚝 𝚕𝚎𝚊𝚜𝚝 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚌𝚘𝚞𝚕𝚍 𝚖𝚊𝚔𝚎 𝚊 𝚜𝚑𝚊𝚙𝚎 𝚒𝚗𝚜𝚒𝚍𝚎 𝚒𝚝 𝚘𝚛 𝚊𝚛𝚘𝚞𝚗𝚍 𝚒𝚝. 𝙱𝚞𝚝 𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚠𝚊𝚜 𝚜𝚘𝚖𝚎𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚗𝚎𝚠, 𝚕𝚒𝚔𝚎 𝚊 𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚌𝚔𝚎𝚛, 𝚐𝚘𝚘𝚎𝚢 𝚜𝚕𝚞𝚍𝚐𝚎. 𝙸𝚝 𝚑𝚊𝚍 𝚒𝚝𝚜 𝚘𝚠𝚗 𝚜𝚑𝚊𝚙𝚎. 𝙸𝚝 𝚌𝚘𝚞𝚕𝚍 𝚗𝚘𝚝 𝚋𝚎 𝚌𝚘𝚗𝚝𝚊𝚒𝚗𝚎𝚍. 𝙸𝚝 𝚠𝚊𝚜 𝚊 𝚝𝚎𝚛𝚛𝚘𝚛. 𝙾𝚏 𝚠𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝙸 𝚠𝚊𝚜 𝚝𝚎𝚛𝚛𝚒𝚏𝚒𝚎𝚍 𝙸 𝚌𝚘𝚞𝚕𝚍𝚗'𝚝 𝚎𝚡𝚊𝚌𝚝𝚕𝚢 𝚜𝚊𝚢, 𝚋𝚞𝚝 𝚒𝚝 𝚠𝚊𝚜 𝚜𝚒𝚝𝚝𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚘𝚗 𝚖𝚎. 𝙴𝚟𝚎𝚛𝚢 𝚘𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚛 𝚜𝚑𝚊𝚙𝚎 𝚠𝚊𝚜 𝚋𝚎𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚊𝚋𝚜𝚘𝚛𝚋𝚎𝚍 𝚒𝚗𝚝𝚘 𝚒𝚝. ❞
❝𝙸 𝚠𝚘𝚗𝚍𝚎𝚛𝚎𝚍 𝚒𝚏 𝚠𝚎 𝚠𝚎𝚛𝚎 𝚋𝚘𝚝𝚑 𝚒𝚗𝚑𝚎𝚛𝚎𝚗𝚝𝚕𝚢 𝚎𝚟𝚒𝚕 𝚙𝚎𝚘𝚙𝚕𝚎. 𝙱𝚊𝚍 𝚠𝚘𝚖𝚎𝚗. 𝚆𝚎𝚛𝚎 𝚠𝚎? 𝙴𝚟𝚒𝚕 𝚙𝚎𝚘𝚙𝚕𝚎 𝚛𝚊𝚛𝚎𝚕𝚢 𝚔𝚗𝚘𝚠 𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚢'𝚛𝚎 𝚎𝚟𝚒𝚕. 𝚂𝚘𝚖𝚎𝚘𝚗𝚎 𝚑𝚊𝚍 𝚝𝚘𝚕𝚍 𝚖𝚎 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝚘𝚗𝚌𝚎. 𝚆𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝚒𝚏 𝚠𝚎 𝚠𝚎𝚛𝚎 𝚙𝚞𝚝 𝚘𝚗 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚙𝚕𝚊𝚗𝚎𝚝 𝚝𝚘 𝚏𝚒𝚕𝚕 𝚜𝚘𝚖𝚎 𝚙𝚞𝚛𝚙𝚘𝚜𝚎 𝚋𝚞𝚝 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝚙𝚞𝚛𝚙𝚘𝚜𝚎 𝚠𝚊𝚜 𝚋𝚊𝚍? 𝙼𝚊𝚢𝚋𝚎 𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚠𝚊𝚜 𝚠𝚑𝚢 𝚠𝚎 𝚑𝚊𝚍 𝚝𝚘 𝚍𝚒𝚎.❞