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That's my baby...
Nah, she ain't around anymore...
Heh, it's a long story... me and her, that is...
I guess, ya' know, that this whole thing starts when I was a lot younger, probably around your age, maybe a little younger. I used to be in pretty damn good shape then. Yeah, don't take what you see now. This is all old bullshit. I was a god-damned train then, ya' know? Ha!
Anyway, that girls' names Lucinda. Yeah, it confused the fuck out'a me, too. I guess it's just one'a those things. I can't say I liked the name at first, but shit, that's her god-damn name! Yeah, she's a looker. That picture doesn't even do it, ya' know? I mean she's a god-damned looker, and I'm not even pull'n a bunch'a bullshit on ya'. Her hair was like... I dunno', silk maybe. It was god-damn soft, ya' know? Really god-damn soft. And damn did she have nice eyes. Yeah, the picture doesn't do it. You'd haf'ta see 'em on your own. This girl was a pearl... One of a kind... We used to go out to the beach, ya' know, at like two or three in the morning and just watch the stars go. Yeah, that was back when I worked at the docks, ya' know, crates and pallets and shit. It's just funny... ya' know, that I met her there, at the docks... 'cuz I hated that job. My boss was a god-damn asshole. Hell, he's half the reason I left...

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I haven't finished it (obviously). I've got ideas, but I need to stop for the moment.
This could be a really long piece... ugh. That's why I don't start writing shit very often. I hope you at least enjoyed this little bit (I hope I get to finish it).

--
On a side-note, the followings a line I've got to use for something, sometime:
"The world is screaming, and I'll drink to that."
~Beau

 --appended edit--
It should be noted that this piece is from the perspective a guy I call Jimmy Grim.
It's going to be a beautifully depressing piece, I think, if I ever finish it.
However, my emotions are on crazy lane right now. Up and down, you know.
This piece, when finished, will probably be several pages long.  I suppose it could be read as a monologue because it certainly sounds fine when read aloud.

Now, I'm going to go, because I'm feeling very artistically inadequate at this point.
My feelings have taken a turn for the worse, and I've hit some more anxiety.
Bleh.