A silent phone call. A black piece of glass. Empty tin cans. Uncomfortable tales of mislead adventures. Silence. Silence.
This is my night in a nutshell. This is my past in a nutshell. All I have accomplished rests on my stupidity. My life in the hands of a chemist. I can do it. I can try. I will be Michael. I will be guy. I will fall down. No one will be there to pick me up, I fear. Too worried over other things. Trivial things. Like a number. Or what we consume. Think you're not guilty?
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