a new southern stance. I pay attention to words exiting the mouth, guarding with a conscience how I percieve with ego and a small self, this small town, this huge house enveloping, this older generation over-doing it.
I am bored with the painted walls and the wallpaper. I am glad to be gone but analyzing everything else as I go along, including the small malleable disturbed self that pulls in and out of gas stations, bank ATMs, and grocery lines. that self wants an apology.
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