I’m sitting here, stuck in a hotel room, looking for anything to cling to, to escape any of the traps that have been built around my four walls. These are the people with whom I have spent my formative years. I thought I knew these people at one time. But it is at times like this that I feel most alone. I realize these people don’t even come close to me. Some things never change.
My nose tingles and as I sneeze, bile surfaces into my throat.
This place is dead; I can feel it.
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