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i see johnny walker red.
i see my first red table tennis racket.
it saved my life.
hours of sweat, spit, and swear on its wooden handle,
searching for my place in a game instead of a woman
for days noons twilights
it kept me sane enough to be narrowminded on the ball and its court.
i left it all on that field then,
but yet there’s still something left for me to sacrifice.
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