Go To Your Breakup Place


Clive took off work for a few days and listened to tons of records. He penciled down lyrics in a composition notebook. They weren’t plagiarized from his favorite artists, but binge listening to his favorite blues and heartbreak music had his neurons firing rockets throughout the stratosphere of his brain.

Some of the lyrics were dark, but there were many cross outs and scribbles that made them potentially more friendly to the listening ear.

He tried to omit the name Diane from any of the lyrics. He was maintaining a success rate of forty percent.

(Photo taken by me.)

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