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September 7, 2015

The End of

The wind rushes past my face.  I feel the power of the cliche metaphor.
I splash the bathtub water.
It rises.
It twists and gyres and tumbles.
Splats on the white carpet.
I laugh because I know that I will be the one to clean it up.

I parcel meals
I shave the excess from my nails
I type on this tiny keyboard
Pretend things are better now than they were twenty years ago because
Then.
Back then I was struggling just to make it to adulthood and it was age 35 where I thought that's when you're really an adult and that is why you have to stay alive...to see what happens to you.

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