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Pearl Harbor. Circa 1994?

When I got back to my folk’s place my mum had a small collection of pictures from when we lived in Hawaii on the coffee table in front of the couch that I crash on. I think these were the pictures she referenced one night over the phone asking why I am no longer a happy little kid like when we were living in Hawaii.

I think she had had a few glasses of wine at that point. I probably did too. Not a good combination. Neither is me in all that white.
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