forty-two

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        Anger—it bursts from me, smoke from my mouth, the weed slowly making its way through my subconscious.  Somewhere in the back of my mind, I know that what I’m doing is wrong, but if I can’t stop my mom from sleeping with a human embodiment of the devil, maybe I can get high enough for my mind to float somewhere heavenly. 

            Somewhere with Mandy.

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