When I saw you for the first time, you were a beam of light. After opening the box that contained me, I knew that I belonged to you. You talk to me, say everything, music, movies, troubles, happiness, and even the last time you had sex. You took me for walks, meals, and many places, you took me to soak in the bathtub, and then fell asleep peacefully, we are so happy. But you are always lonely. You need someone to accompany you, and anyone just walks with you for a short period of time. You start to be irritable and angry at me, but I still keep smiling, the reason is very simple, because I don't have a second expression.
Damn workers, they must have forgotten to put the instructions when packing me. I was for fucking, not for love. And you, if you want to fuck, you have to fuck, you have to play tricks, you have to play tricks, you have to act real, you have to act real, you have to regret it, if you regret it, you regret it, and you have to find excuses and excuses. Just make an excuse and push me all over. Do you know how hard it is to make an inflatable doll, mold it, install it, paint it, and carry it? Have you ever considered the feeling of an inflatable doll?
Finally, I disappeared, how are you, is there a better ending than this?
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