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Jan 2017
I'm feeling depressed...
My room smells like cigarettes...
I smell like cigarettes...
How did I get here?
I swore never to do this...
Guess I should never make promises...
I apologize to the future me who's going to feel the consequences of this smoke...
I didn't know what to do...
This smoke is the only thing that seems to understand my preoccupations and insecurities...
The only problem is that it is killing me...
Chris Tó Inácio
Written by
Chris Tó Inácio  25/M/Mozambique -Maputo
(25/M/Mozambique -Maputo)   
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