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a somewhat true memory (11/03/2006)

I smoke cigarettes on the rooftops of skyscrapers in Downtown. It is mostly a waste, since the wind would always kill my light. But I always need to scare the child out of me. That child would always get in the way. Always wants things that don't exist.

So I'd leave him behind when I parachute off the building. When I hit the ground and find a place to hide for awhile, I wonder if he is still there, on the rooftop, with his own parachute, but too scared to go on his own. He always freezes, maybe that's why he never ages.

If only he would grow up, I would never have to do things for myself again.

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