It’s dark before 6, and these blinds block all light from the streetlights below, but I’m still holding onto the edge, buoyed by this tiny light slipping out from my lampshade.

Slip past the guards, the listless bodies thrown haphazardly across any surface this apartment can provide. Open the gates, mindful of the squeaking hinges, remaining a shadow until the door is in the past. Do not linger, for that is how regrets are formed, and you have no strength left to fight another losing battle. So for now walk it off, stretch out your mind in those rainy skies, feel the pressure of the autumn storm, a gentle touch compared to the enormity of your disdain for your own presence. You are trapped within your skin, so the scars all make perfect sense, in your own corner of the world. For now, just breathe; don’t start running until you are quite sure you are ready to finish this race, because once you start it can only end 1 of 2 ways – you win, or you lose. Some people will argue that just finishing the race is all that matters, but that’s the most ignorant bullshit you will ever hear. It’s completely self-serving and devoid of real meaning in the face of the journey – the destination is the same for us all, so the only thing that does matter is how we run our own races. So the choice is clear, and the shortcuts are right there; every New York City Skyscraper, the kitchen counter-tops of cooking enthusiasts, rows and rows of sweet relief lining store shelves, so brightly lit and inviting. Take a break, you’ve earned a rest, but don’t linger, don’t give yourself the chance to second guess a solid decision; the evidence speaks for itself, and these scars scream out the verdict, “Guilty Guilty GUILTY!” Give yourself the short rest required to build up the stamina, then it’s off to the races. Again, it doesn’t matter how you get there, just so long as you get there quickly, so please…let me get there quickly…

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