fuck

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Brilliant writing, really. The front page of the newspaper each morning should have the best opening line, hook those readers on the evidence in yesterday’s fascinating events. Fuck. Because I live in this dull commentary on whatever the fuck. How do I get a commission without trading it for a date? How do I connect to these beings? Dream of a stunning sun set of a mister. Wiser than he looks, in hipster grunge and a well groomed beard. Do you not know people? How does anyone meet anyone here? Fuck.