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Crude Corridor

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As I ascend the incline to the entrance of my eight hour prison every step I take is like climbing the summit of Mt. Everest. When I finally reach the colossal passage of both confinement and freedom I hesitate for only a moment analyzing what awaits me on the flip-side. I wrap my four digits around the lever to wrench wide the portal to the land of dejection. Traipsing down the hall, the barbarians, also known as students, parted like the Red Sea and I was Moses. Gawking as the monstrosity trekked dispiritedly crestfallen. The glares that feel like needles in my spine, the mouths full of hateful judgement pouring like a flooded latrine, and most importantly the constant dismissal of my intelligence leaving me withdrawn, deserted, and forsaken.





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