Shoot.
Something's not quite right.
Let's try turning it off and then back on again.
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There we go, now we're firing on all cylinders. The guy in my nightmare last night told me it's high time for me to pull the trigger on the first piece of hack writing I've hammered out since last summer. So here's a full magazine of nonsense content locked and loaded and ready for your consumption, mostly in the form of pictures I shot with an iPhone that just decided to die on me. My target is obviously for all of this to end very badly because apparently I'm a champion when it comes to setting myself up for failure. So there I was, dreaming yet again of burning another bridge and existing in an imaginary space where I didn't have to ghost everyone who tried to get close to me when my phone started ringing:
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Hey man, what's up?
Hey. I've got some bad news.
Oh. What is it?
It's about James. He's gone man.
What?
Yeah man. He drove out to the Avalanche trailhead last night and shot himself.