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A vacant room sign hangs outside the door.
I watch from the lobby as potential customers take a peek and leave, underwhelmed and disappointed with what they see.
Rusted handrails on stairs.
Peeling wallpaper with mold at the edges.
Creaking chairs that barely supports any visitors.
Not that there are any.
Sometimes I think I could convince them to stay for a while.
To fill the empty room, but my mouth refuses to open.
It refuses to sell the room using eloquent, convincing words.
How am I supposed to convince them when I can't convince myself?
I wouldn't stay here if I had the choice, so why would they?
I see the same thing onlookers see.
A beaten-down, useless, sad hotel.
There's too much to fix and repair.
It's beyond the stage of renovation.
So my heart stays vacant.
Things feel better but also worse than before.
More fun, more lonely.
Just back at it again with 12:53 a.m. thoughts.
in my feels
(in my feels)
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