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mythical
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here is a photo of me walking home from the bank. i made exactly enough for rent and deposited it at midnight. i brought icecream with me so i can eat it on my way back because florida is hot and humid and i knew it would make me less scared. a nice spanish lady at the gas station gave me a free cup of water and me and the homeless man sitting outside exchanged looks
it’s May but my head still lives in April. i think we wake up as different people, but by the time it’s night we all just become the same. underneath we are all just people with grit, love, excitement, despair, people looking to be seen, felt and heard. my town was quiet and my pockets drained but in this moment I was full. your heart doesn’t die when you grow up, and you bleed just to know you’re alive, april you were far from perfect and yet you were so good to me, i made it back to my neighborhood and im sitting at a fountain to write this before i forgot

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