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It’s funny how I used to embrace the night like a carousing drinking buddy. And now I feel a yearning loneliness in the still of it. I get bored of people and my attention wains in daylight but once dusk approaches my inclination is closeness, bonding, human heat. After years of rejecting people and batting the life rafts I have learned to accept; I’ve grown accustomed to your face. Tired of humbuggery tinged with humor, the days of bloviating about mediocrity and vapid evaporation of meaning. That bitter ball rolled away to reveal a potato bug searching for home amid the dung heap.

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