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daily struggle
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the correction fluid
someone - i know not who - is trying to erase my past, my history, my life. i am not crazy about this. why would someone do such a thing? when they were trying to remove my flesh from my very bones, at least i knew where i stood.
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the drift

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the map
something is wrong. i live in a place where people seem to like me. i know everyone by name, and - moreover - they know mine. they seem happy for me to be here. i can't remember the last time i thought someone might pull my trachea out of my nose, or get to work on my spine with a chisel.
i used to think i'd fallen off the map at some point. now i know i have. but the warm, fat, welcoming arms are smothering me, and i can't leave. i fear that i cannot be weaned from the insidious bosom. i am no longer afraid that things will be intolerable from here on in. i am petrified that they will be adequate.
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the great height

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the reunion
time had elapsed. i thought that old grudges wouldn't have survived the drought of acquaintance. i have since learned that it's better not to draw these types of conclusions. it turns out that there were scores of scores waiting to be settled. i was lucky to escape from that room without my gonads having been sewn to my tongue with chicken wire. in future i shall be avoiding rooms full of people who know me. actually, i might just avoid people altogether.
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the diminished responsibility
they said that my integrity was not in question. but it was. they said it was just a way of ensuring due process. but it was an insult. they said it was nothing personal. if they knew they could get away with it, they would nail me through my wrists to a splintery wooden table, saw open my gut with a bread-knife, pull out my stomach, cook it and feed it to me over, and over, and over again; so that I couldn't be nourished, and would plead with them to use the axe once and for all.
i am thinking of saying something about it. but - then again - i might just accept it and shut up.
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the sequestering

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the opinion
i expressed an opinion. i was admittedly a little flippant; but i basically meant what i said. expressing opinions other than the most prosaic is always ill-advised. he didn't agree with me. i could almost hear his blood beginning to stew. and i sensed very clearly that he wanted to bind my wrists behind my back, drive my face repeatedly into a barnacle-encrusted rock, plunge multiple fish-hooks into the open wounds, use them to suspend me from the underside of a jetty, and watch whilst the tide comes in.
assuming my flight from town goes according to plan, i shall bear in mind that in the next place, best to keep opinions under my hat.
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the unexpected text

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the broken lock
i took my car to the garage. the driver-side door won't unlock. i keep having to clamber over the gearstick. i find this to be a nuisance; and as such have taken steps to get it fixed.
i sensed the man at the garage was seething at my presence. i kept asking how much he thought it might cost, as i cannot afford an expensive repair. he evaded the question; no doubt thinking that i was trying to barter and deprive him of his earnings. now i suspect that, when i go to pick it up, i will be dragged into a grubby back-room, and beaten weak with ratchets; so that i struggle less as the mechanics excoriate my skin with wire-wool, whilst force-feeding me engine oil through a funnel. i might just leave my car there, and start taking the bus more.
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the suspense
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the playground

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the lurgee
i am ill.
the people i work with like that i am ill. they want me to choke and drown in my own bloodclot-rich phlegm. i am going to stay here, and not go home sick. then hopefully they'll get infected too.
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the gulf
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the reinvention
i've realised that what has been standing in the way of progress is my outmoded concept of conscience. i must inseminate. i need to care less that i am leaving a trail of lesser men to raise my children.

therein lies success. productivity without accountability. bring forth the whores.
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