I once thought we were all moving, but I see life is moving and we
have no control how fast. It feels like our presence is the nuisance.
The very bane of its existence.
We are given life as a gift, yet we treat it like we have a second
chance. Those of who squeeze every ounce out of it get to the same place
as those who throw it away. One lives happily. One lives miserably.
I don't know how to be indifferent. genetics means I won't be able to master this. I have no choice but to feel my reality.
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