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At the roads end

I turned out too difficult to fathom at this late a date…I repressed my bisexuality forever, and my sexuality in general, for some morbid masochistic purpose even I, in my forever sabotage mode, fail to understand. Time has no price tags because the zeros wouldn’t fit. We have no idea the preciousness of what we lose, nor the pettiness of what we keep. Meaning itself has died, and no sexual awakening can reanimate it.

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