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Thinking about this message that got sent to PostSecret in 2012:
Accept, for a moment, that this is real; that there was some guy who was maybe late for work in the WTC, saw the airplane hit, realised he actually hated his life, and saw his chance.
Anyway, I would love to read a novel about the last 25 years from the perspective of this guy.
"and I get to what, fuck the dog?" Going right into the lexicon as a phrase I cannot use ever in front of people












