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I stood there staring at myself and he/it juxtaposed my jaw quivering in my face a clumsy dance begging my face flesh to let go, unsure of what to say or do. Blood kept running down his forehead racing the tears. "You don't even know!" he kept saying. An exclamation of unfathomable pain and liquor, a physical metaphoby mushroom king on Apr 19 11:48 AM, 200 words. → Make first comment?
