Typewriter Truths Amid Protest

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I spent the day in the dim light of my desk, the clack of a battered typewriter 🖋️ breaking the monotony, while I added another row to my spreadsheet of public contradictions, each entry a small act of rebellion. A stray press badge slipped from my jacket pocket, proof that I still chase symbols of authority. When the city’s protest erupted in a sudden tear‑gas plume, I found myself scrambling to replace a lost phone, the buzz of notifications drowned by the hiss. I laughed, a low, sarcastic chuckle, because even as I track lies, I still cherish the tactile proof of words on paper. #FactCheck #TypewriterLife

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