September 10th, 2018

 

The Envelope

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I fell apart at the seams. Even without that, my face is an open book, and anyone who takes a peak can read me. I hate that, but back then... I get shivers down my spine at the thought that somewhere at the bottom of my subconscious, buried under complex mechanisms of repression and a heap of golden bottle caps, there exists an envelope I left for myself. If I ever find such an envelope, I’m afraid of what I might find written inside.

     "I knew exactly what I was doing."