Heard from an old neighbor that my old house has finally been occupied (Not by disgruntled protesters, but by a family). I wonder if all the emotions that were lived in my room will seep out of the walls and make contact with the member that sleeps in it. I couldn’t tell you everything that happened in there and even if I started I’d just be repeating myself. I’d like to think that a part of me still remains there, though. A lingering presence of youth, death metal, cologne, warm bodies… maybe.
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