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I was standing in a puddle of myself and

  • I was standing in a puddle of myself and I was constantly refilling myself with myself. Rarely premium myself with more Octane. I never knocked myself so much. I was even accused

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  • of overhyping myself; exaggerating a lot of fake news about myself and making myself look like somebody else. But, then, I started feeling bad about myself and stopped caring about

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  • who I really was. I got lost in the fantasy of being this other person. I could get away with anything as long as no one knew the real me. I could even get away with murder if only

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  • I wasn't such a pacifist. But when I lived in another person I could be anything. A warlord. A prophet. A milquetoast. A queen. Anything, as long as it wasn't the real me.

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  • I started getting mad at myself for being a pacifist and began repeatedly punching myself in the face, Fight Club style. It felt so good, yet so wrong. my teeth cracked beneath my

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  • fist. I began digging in my mouth to pull out the bits of broken teeth. It should have hurt like hell, but I was so jacked up on meth I didn't even notice. I found a ball of foil

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  • in the corner of the room, the one my cat had been playing with all day. I placed the foil ball in my wounded gums for no other reason than to plug the bloody gaping holes.

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  • When my gums were healed, I gave the foil ball to my cat to play. "Why would you give me this?" she asked. "Do you really think I'm dumb enough to play with your bloody balls?"

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  • The cat went under my bed and brought out a rarely seen black and white mouse, with a bell. We played with that all night since I couldn't get to sleep.

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  • Right at the break of dawn, the mouse bit me. Turns out it wasn't a toy, just stunned. I felt a wave of guilt, as well as a wave of whatever disease the mouse was carrying.

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