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Meandering thoughts of a Bay Area college student… be prepared for some bipolar vocabulary

Sorry for everything I’ve done.

I had a strange dream last night. I saw a myself (or probably a copy of myself) die. As he laid there on the sidewalk, in a pool of his own blood, I knelt next to him, tightly grasping his hand with both of mine’s. It wasn’t a weird situation at all; I wasn’t all freaked out that I (or my copy) was dying. I’m sure my friends would disagree as they stood around us, intently watching.

As his breathing got lighter, he whispered into my ear. And he confessed. He confessed all of the horrible things that I’ve done in the past. The perpetual torrent would’ve normally make me retreat, but his/my voice was just so heartbreaking that it kept me kneeling as my sweaty hands tightly clutched his. When he finished, tears started to stream down his face. Then he gave my signature hybrid of a scoff and a chuckle and said to me, “This… this was a good talk.”

“Chyeah,” I replied with a small laugh. “I guess it was.”

He gave a long sigh and closed his eyes. I guess he got everything off of his chest before he died with that small smile.

I know that I’m an extremely proud person. So what I’m about to do is really… humiliating for me. But… I really would like to apologize for whatever I’ve done in the past if it had caused pain or inconvenience to anyone (that I don’t hate). Edit: And I hope I will one day have the guts to say all of the other things weren’t apologies.

Now that that’s that, it’s time for me to start on my paper.

Cheers.

… that that’s that…. damn, it works!

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