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May 2013
Smoke enters my lungs and I begin to travel into a another world. One without any worries and without any fears.  I don't feel corrupted by society here. Maybe that's what I visit so often. I can hear the padded voices of my mom and dad asking me to come back.
" Were sorry" They say.
We're sorry that this happened to you.
I can't come back. My brain tells me no. Don't leave. I'm trapped. And I like that.
Written by
ZETA  Norway
(Norway)   
385
 
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