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October 24, 2005 - 3:29 So when you are done with a task like that, and you are covered with the evidence, and you are on your knees in a conference room called the "SKYDOME", your ear drums give out a little, and you look at yourself in the glass, and you try to romanticize the image of you with all of those rubber bodies, 18 stories up. But you can't even do that, because that's how you got here in the first place, and this is life, and you have no reason to leave or come back. It wouldn't matter if I sat in this chair for 12 more hours.
If I am supposed to exist,
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