Sweat drenched men do acrobatics. Some fool in a cowboy hat amuses a crowd with rope tricks. On every corner is someone with a guitar and amp. Near a store I print t-shirts for I blend into the mob. A bar spills into the street, it’s patrons scream in joy. Summer is here.
And I need all the reasons I can find not to hate myself. But it’s hard. Even the idea makes me shiver. Because I see loving myself like looking down on others. Riding around on a high horse. And I never want to think I’m better then the people I see on the street. The ones who have it rough. The ones who don’t fit in. The ones I see my own face in.
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