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Everyone had left. This fucking place felt like an abandoned aircraft after a turbulent landing. The silence of routine was a stench that got up my nose, up my legs into my blood. It scared me that I was living off this shit. That this was my life-force – this banality – emptiness – hard crack resilient shell – and had I tried. Had I pushed and poked and broke. Had I broken? Neville was complaining and agreeing. I couldn’t understand a fucking word he was saying. He shrunk of piss. The road stunk of piss. A long building – another inconsequential structure. Some imbeciles in a car. Black like spilt oil were laughing. I was trying to look at something – anything. There is nothing to look at here. There is constant banging and drilling. And only one that is good. They are installing lights to ruin my shadow, my lost friends.

Is it so hard to even minimize the building blocks I had swallowed and given back to you? Would it take an apology – a confession or just dismissal of reason – where it’s not reticent or ridicule? But a plain and simple point of view. Is your unaware a mystery or another carbon copy sheet – when I prophesize do you fantasize – is there any feeling in your head.

Let’s strip away these mannerisms. I was walking slowly I thought. I had been thinking far too long. Or not thinking. It’s a ménage a trios. Lets have a manage a trios. I was not walking, I was battling. Walk was a by-product. It was the mechanical action stemmed by this mental pace. It was lyrical. I am not lyrical. I am shining. Let’s just be shining. Come on lets.

He was not talking. A condition of commitment. I can’t seem to arise out of this bubble. This superficial carnage. My last sentence is slurry. It’s a self-dismissal mess. I saw your ears turn red as you never missed what I said. Why are these girls dancing on the table? What planet are they from. A gay bar is mentioned. We leave. There’s a cab. Twenty thousand photographs are constantly recorded. He is tired – he said. i just knew we were going to go to bed

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