From an alley mouth I spy on the quarter. I have no other reason to leave the apartment again, so I inhale more than nicotine and chemicals. I breathe in life. Beside my job voyeurstic moments are my only connection to humanity. And toiling is no way to experience mankind. I take a drag.
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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