Sunday I got home from the hospital. I put my companion, a random book, on the top of the secretary. Went downstairs into the living room, turn on the TV, another bomber, another tax increase. While I shower, under the water, I feel alone.
The scotch should do the trick. Fuck, there's no scotch, only bourbon. So be it. There's only one song that can help me now, only a though, a though that maybe, just maybe, we can build a better world. The song is called Avenue of Hope.
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