9:08 p.m.
November 28, 2004
Maybe it was that cynical self-depreciating tacky and altogether uncomfortable introspection, or maybe it was the sight of the glowing sign for a law firm shutting down at 9:02 by my watch (though I bet they were aiming for 9:00) but somewhere between harlem and devon, i was completely comfortable with the idea of slamming the Pontiac Bonneville into a Toyota Rav4.

My room smells like burning from a humidifier running on empty.
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