Tuesday evenings, at least this one, is somewhat heavy. Not sure how to explain it more than I feel heavy. Like the air around me is sort of like keeping me in place. It’s not a bad feeling.
It’s just heavy.
The inner machinations of a middle-class peasant.
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the tales we tell define who we are.
A Bougie Rubes' Momentary Delusions. 
please talk to me.