Resumed reading Van Gogh’s letters. Met with another accident last night. Second accident in one month, second of my life. Truth is a bitch that’s always around. Truth is your shadow. Blood has stopped flowing. Wounds have been kept hidden, just like last time. Everything is like the last time, only this time, I got too drunk and drove too fast and I was pissed off with my job for some reason and I rammed my bike into another in front but it all happened too late at night, too late, and I saw the blood only after I reached home and felt something burning around my right knee. It’s a big wound, perfect circle, big red circle, all the hair from there gone, gone, gone with the skin. My right toe has rotten from accidents. The headache is back like a motherfucker. Everything is repeating itself. Time to break the cycle.
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