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1 min read2026-01-29
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Fear, dread, or terror, each concept carries with it death, to the nonexistent life, to the five seconds when your head crashes against the windshield, where the force of your body pushing forward demands the acknowledgment of not having worn the seatbelt, of not having stopped drinking, since now your soul has gotten off five blocks away.
End
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I didn't turn back. I couldn't. The symphony was reaching its crescendo, and I was the final note.
