John Roedel
JohnnyRoedel
Open up a bag of Red Rope Licorice and suddenly I'm eight-years old again. It's 1982. I'm standing in the middle of our families old drug store. The waxy floorsthat
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as an introvert I’ve never beenfond of making eye contact looking into your eyes felt like I’m standing atthe very edge of a deep canyon I’m afraid that I might
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