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Still breathing


Still breathing. The thin dry mountain air reminds me of Mars, though it’s still not the same. Dirtier, for one thing, and thicker, with the unpleasant tinge of marijuana.

Downtown Denver is, well, there. Just a place. I’m not exploring. One bar or restaurant is just like another, and that’s really all that’s here. I have no interest. I didn’t come down here when I lived only minutes away. Living thousands of kilometers away now does not make my visit more special.

Onward and upward.

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