Shanley Roach

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Then, angry at himself, he spat—spat with wrath and contempt, for himself, with utter hate, onto the barren ground. Thereupon he resumed his trudge up the slope, the lonely and unfamiliar terrain, remote from everything; nothing lived here except himself.
Shanley Roach
Men really do be doing anything but go to therapy
Do Androids Dream of Electric Sheep?
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