When you walk everyday like you're imitating another person walking through a ghosttown, you get used to the feeling you aren't yourself
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why are we all growing our hair out? Something to spread out and get entangled in the odd bits of leaves, little alcoves enough to shed metal casings down to brittle electronic parts
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My class Hollywood and Germany is basically odd facts about Nazi Germany coupled with Charlie Chaplin movies tongue in cheeking Hitler
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I wonder if you get tired of sleeping under doorjambs, unable to pass into the unknown of hinting memories while still afraid of being wholly exposed in the light
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