I’m not
here. I haven’t been
here in a long
time. I checked out
somewhere around
’95 or ’96. I don’t
remember what I
was doing then, but it was
probably something I
shouldn’t. Since then, I
have lied, cheated, and
stolen. I have
fucked, punched, bitten, kicked, and
abandoned. I have
regretted. I have
wept. I don’t
know where I
am anymore, or
why. Don’t look to me
for answers. Don’t ask me
how. Let me burn out,
a forgotten candle.
Melt me down and
make something else,
something more grateful,
something better.
Anything
other than me.
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