Taking the light rail in, standing to avoid company. I think, maybe this suits me. Meeting the world with a glum frown that comes off as practised, professional. Frown that tells you not to worry, I’ve done this before. It might just be the way that everything is swaying slightly that makes me feel so sleepily morose and lazily beautiful. I wonder at a distorted reflection if this is a good length of stubble for me or if that’s an accurate representation of my jawline. I think, this is the kind of vanity that makes or breaks you. The kind of steely resolve in your own self-interest, or self-interestedness, that is one-hundred per-cent guaranteed to make everybody your friend, Or: They’re Just Pretending. Glancing around to see if anyone notices my breath becoming ragged. Pod People, and me too. Blank expressions, betraying not a single shred of our lone shared intention. We are going to get up every day, and we are going to go to work. We will never tell you why.
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