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FUCK. I’m still at FUCKing work. Haven’t felt the warmth of the sun or enjoyed the summer feeling all day. Fuck work fuck deadlines but most of all fuck this shitty system where I can’t do a thing about it. Don’t tell me to be a fucking naked communist anarchist or whatever and don’t give me some childlike shit like – you should tell them you’re leaving leave and get a job that doesn’t have deadlines.

You turned into the middle aded dickhead you promised you wouldn’t be„„ but what’s the alternative? – can’t be impulsive like that any more, it’s not about you any more… and if it is about you you’re the worst thing of all. A shitty dad/ husband/ ex-husband/ whatever.

Grown man shit.

Summertime Blues mate

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