
Welcome to brokennerves.net
The field journal of Melissa Dominic
In that fragile sense of who we are as a person, I guess we could just say this is me.
Consider this as a shuffle of papers tied together, bound in string with a leather cover, worn out and scratched. Inside it holds every small moment of my life, every thought, every bit of survivalism I have ever learned. The things I love, the things I need, the things I refuse to forget.
When we reach the end of the world, this will be all I have left.
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no reviews are done around here. no money is shifted. nothing changes hands. please don’t ask or assume otherwise.
