This is not a true story. But I do own this shirt. Make of it what you will.I don’t think much about it when I’m packing. I’ll be visiting a friend for the weekend, I need a t-shirt to sleep in, I grab the first clean one off the laundry pile. Simple, uncomplicated. I stop for a second in my flurry of socks and hairbrushes and underwear and
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I want a story... I want a shirt..
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But no, you don't want a shirt. It's sort of a lonely way to live.
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