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Garden State

It has been made abundantly clear to me that New Jersey is no longer my home. Everything is just an altered version of the place I remember. People who I once knew and loved dearly seem to mere phantoms compared to the memories of them in my head. It seems colder yet brighter. I don’t know what any of this means but I’m heartbroken for the second time in 6 months and despite being heartbroken and incredibly lonely I’m dealing as well as one could hope.

Work blows. After-work blows a little less. Atlantic City is a nice place to visit. Seaside Heights is a dump now. I met this Italian guy named Joey, he seems like a nice enough guy. He thinks that Georgia is full of hick-a-billies and that by living there I have become one but whatever.

I don’t know what I’m doing here anymore but I’m also not sure if I should return to Georgia there are too many people I would rather not see again.

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