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Only two men were needed to carry the shiny white coffin. Any more and they would have been bumping into each other.
The problem started long before that, of course. Problems always start long before you really, really see them.
They always call depression the blues, but I would have been happy to waken to a periwinkle outlook. Depression to me is urine yellow. Washed out, exhausted miles of weak piss.
It’s impossible to compete with the dead. I wished I could stop trying.