Yeah, I remember the first time I saw her. Sitting on the edge of my bed, envelope in hand. She said it contained the answer to everything. And she was more than willing to give it to me.
Pacing with the blade of knowledge to my throat, I didn’t want the responsibility. If I knew, I’d have to give up all this. Then what would I do with my time? What if it’s just a god damn photograph? This is exactly the kind of shit I try to avoid. I know she’s not going to wait forever. But I can’t look, not right now.
I suppose I would have to tell everyone else. Or fuck them, why do they deserve to know? I could become a prophet, a modern day messiah . . . or a motivational speaker, those people make all kinds of money and they’re full of shit…
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