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The Occasion (pt.3)

so I left, stood outside her apartment, decided I’d have a smoke. looked at my marlboros and though, "how the hell did that shit become my official currency for the last years". decided I didn't really want to think about it. looked across the street, observed the hustle. everybody makes mistakes, they say. I wasn't looking forward to making any more. fuck this, man. for better or for worse, I'm back.

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