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Story, storyToday, I have decided, everything is wrong. The weather is too dreadful, the milk is too cold, and the clothing with that new starch that I recently bought is too itchy. What am I to do?My sister has told me that the best idea of all would be for me to get a life; and stop making huge events of everything that happens during my days, and my days, and my days. Yes, I have pulled upon my shoulders that many days; although I am only twenty two I feel as though I have lived through enough. Perhaps, my last day has come. Perhaps tomorrow, I will hang myself. But dont listen to me; I barely ever follow through with plans that I make for tomorrow or perhaps in twenty years. Do not bring upon me countless questions about whatever plans I may have made for twenty years time because I cannot recall ever making any; it was merely an example of my subjection towards keeping any plans.The mere sight of today has put me into a drab mood. I open my curtains and expect something magical to be
day.We sat on the wall holding hands.It felt pleasant and I felt better thanI have in a long time.We talked about grass, and the future.I got you to climb on my backand I carried you down the pathand then you did the same with meand I got scared and you had to put me downand then I hit you playfully and told youthat youre beautifulbecause you are.People stared but we dont carebecause really its only the two of usthere. Ive never smiled so muchin my life.I kissed you till my lips were soreand then I kissed you some moreand some more and then i tickledyou and you laughed.We took ten thousand photographsand then looked back at themboth groaning at our own appearancesand I shhhed you.I took ten thousand more photographsof just you, and you were awkwardand didnt know where to lookand I kept shouting be natural!We waiting ages for the bus and it wasreally cold and you shudderedso I hugged you really tight and it wasreally bl
You were never.I realise nowthat you were both exactlylike each other.Although you despisedone another.I grew sickof your armoured chestalthough later I learnedit was really onlythick, burnt lungsanyway.You let me thinkyou were so strongwith that box of liesyou left with me. Faketears and desperatelyhollow love.Im done withwhat you gave me now.The pictures have beenreplacedwith a new face.I think about younow and thenthough.I know that you dontthink about me.Im glad.