i bought a very expensive round trip tix to nowhere & back again. one bag of salted prozacs each way. my baggage was returned with broken locks; all my unmentionables strewn along the conveyor belt for all to gawk at. they gave me a bandaid to hold the suitcases shut and told me to have a nice life.

uncle.

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p.s. i realized how that sounded. it's not a suicide note ok? i'm just tired of trying to find "better." This is as good as it gets and i'm going to concentrate on learning to accept that.