Just a few hours before midnight finds me alone on back roads. I whip by broken stoplights and can't hit the accelerator fast enough. Long minutes on well-traveled streets bring me to a dim, familiar parking lot. At the same time, the bile hits the back of my teeth. I park, and swallow down the taste of distaste. My stomach roils with fresh resentment, and I detach a slowly formed clot of myself from my affection. I try and dodge my own interpersonal embolism.
7:01 p.m. - 2016-04-12
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