July 29th, year 22

The edges cannot be softened, if you cannot find them, only feel them cutting into you.

I cannot exorcise myself, and it will soon be thought that I forbade my demons leave. I closed the gates with multiple locks. I built an army out of rage, and had them stand guard. This was once wholly true, but is now only partially true.

I fear in a new way. My old friend appears to undulate, and I am hypnotized by its movement. I am twisted and frozen, and loyal to the despair that arises.

There is a note on my desk. It reads that I am to speak to Rob today. It has a series of numbers belonging to a landline, or a mobile phone. I do not know Rob. I fear I am sleepwalking, and actively dating then. I very well could be engaged by now.
The note also states that he laughs at my stories often.
Who the hell is Rob? And doesn’t he know that people look simple, when they laugh too much.

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July 29th, year 22

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