What happens is you ask me, Truth or dare? and I say: both.
Do you believe in God?
I’m just trying to survive the day, you know what I mean. Survive the gray drizzle tapping on the slanted tin roof. Survive the night which is about to unfold in front of us for no reason other than because it has to and it has no other choice.
You didn’t answer my question.
You didn’t listen to my answer. Let me say this another way. I know there’s something out there, something toying with us from the other side, but only if you believe in ghosts. The way a child is a afraid of the dark until one night the dark sits at the edge of the bed, plays with her hair until they become a kind of friends which turns into a secret which never goes away. It just sinks…
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