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West Until We're East
It's an ugly city, but the experience I'm having is not the tolerance of ugliness, it's the desperate longing for more time. I'm walking away from this knowing that I'll wish I'd sat in those orange chairs. I can't give you the smallest reason why I'd expect those chairs to be any more interesting under close inspection than they are in momentary overlook, but I want them, in the same way that I want to stand in the soup aisle with a dictionary until I've memorized every dubious flavor and obsequious slogan.
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