Bobby took me down to the shore yesterday. He pointed at the ocean and said, “Can’t you fucking see?” And I said, “Sure, what’s in it for me?” Natural devotion. When we hold hands for too long I worry people might stare, but Bobby passed away last week. I bet he never cared. Now I live all alone. I disguise my voice on the phone. Why, on the side of the road, I confess my worries unknown? Natural devotion. [If someone had asked me fifteen years ago to imagine what Hell feels like, it would have felt a lot like Me in (indiscernible) right now.] August came and went so quick. I’m all missed. I guess. I guess we’re burning up in fox piss. [If you want every monotonous day to feel utterly unreal and meaningless, if you want to spend every moment -------- if you want to lose any understanding of who you are or who you were or who you want to be, move to (indiscernible) alone.] [Now, die.]
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