up in my sleeping bag, looking out the window at Erin's house as the sun is beginning to creep over the horizon.
The trees are silhouetted black against the emerging blue sky with the fading stars up in the sky.
And I think to myself how much I hate Aaron because he's got it fucking made with this fantastic house of his, this nice little piece of property tucked away out in the backwoods of South Dakota.
God, I fucking hate him.
I hope he dies.
I hope he dies of syphilis.
Piece of shit.
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