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ships out within 5 days
passion and beauty don’t exist in my surrogate family of the whores and the dogs and the dirt streets and the guns and the bartenders and me. where did the days go when my life had a promise? i don’t know why this sickness is buried in my bones. all i know is i can’t ever go home. this hole of a home we’ve dug for ourselves is deep underground. this hole of a home, this forgotten hell, is far from the sounds of humanity. so our sadness knows no bounds. so let’s revel in our misery. we’ll reject this love. for it’s much too bright. so we’ll stay inside. it’s what we prefer. tell these lies with our eyes. it’s easy to forget the life and love that you’ve had and never call yourself a man and only know yourself as sad. and when the sting of loneliness resides in our bones, we’ll sleep the heavy slumber of the bitterly alone. and we’ll hide until we die.