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Grey hairs in your two inch roots. In an empty outbox when you've finally heard from the one person in the entire world that you've been dying to hear from. In a playlist replaying one song for three hours. In the clutter of your room, with a path cleared away from the door to your bed. In a cellphone bill of 460 dollars, with only 24 minutes used and 2149 texts sent. Everything is flatlining. It's nice to give up the fight. Post a comment in response: |
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