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March 8th, 2011


I walked into the place called Pitts. It was time for my ritual. Time for the removal of what I did not desire to any longer appear on me as it did. This man, he made it better. He knows what I do about this, he told me so. This man brought me a moment of comfort when I had none. Things are different on the outside, this he told me too but I do not know, not yet. He did not look the color of me but I do believe he may have been.

Seconds later I met a man who I know was not my color. I showed him a hole and he said he could not fix it.

But he knew someone that could.

So I asked him, “Please.” I told the other man, “Thank you.”