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Those boys in the suits, nipping out with the rest of them for a pint at lunch.
Married? Kids? Home?
Same suit, same tie, same shirt, same shoes.

You never wanted to be there.

Walking through a busy street, on the way to/backfrom work.
All closes off, life in a glass jar.
Echoes of heeled footsteps on the pavement break through the warped covering around you.
The only sound. Ringing in your ears.
As You walk out in front of the cars. Only to live to reach the other side.

Office, chair desk cube 8 hours. One hour lunch.
What ARE you doing for lunch? Same again? Always the same again.
How was your week end?

Thought it would all be different.

Night and clubs, pubs. Drink. Smoke, a wee pill. Carried away and unique, standing out for once.
As do the others around you.

I always knew I didn't want any of it. I looked around and saw people dead inside. Acceptance of circumstance and social norms was not where I was.

I always looked in fear at those bodies that surrounded me, hating the idea that what they had was what I was destined for. It was a fear that buried itself deep inside me, whispered its truth to me.

I don't want to play house. I don't want to get by. I don't want to wife/babies/fitted kitchen. It's all just a

loss of soul.

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