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basement diaries of the long-deceased

You scribble fast. As if you could out-write loneliness. It never goes away. Even when you forget about it for a while. It never goes away. It's there. Alive and roaring. Even with silence pressed around you. All the bad thoughts crowd into your head like commuters on the rush hour train. You play hide-n-seek with your breath. Your hands have only each other to hold. You rest your head on a cool breeze that has sailed out of the gathering dark. For a while. Until the stars begin to broadcast. All that sound coming in from way out past never. All those bright movies without screens. All those forgettable memories still dripping from the top of your skull. Pooling at the bottom where a light continues to fall.

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