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He sat on the cold bathroom floor. Crouched against the toilet. Slowly running from a leak. Always slowly flushing.
The fan above buzzed as it vacated the smell of the bathroom and to assist the smell of the deep blue candle lit on the counter top. The glow flickered the room to life.
It’s a noisy room with barely any light. But there is peace in this room. In his soul. For a moment of solitude and solidarity he is at peace with himself.
The moment buzzes past. His brain is at war with himself and the seize fires are always brief. The sounds of imminent danger are present and suddenly he is afraid, anticipating judgement, dismissal and abandonment. He doesn’t take risks because he is afraid of not being liked. He’s afraid of being seen as exactly what he is.
The day has just ended, yet to some the day has just begun. The battle continues.
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