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I don’t know what anything means anymore.

Losing as much as I’m winning.

Smiling as much as I’m frowning.

The pace keeps getting faster and faster and faster and faster and faster and faster.

Where are my fucking keys?

Computer desk.

No. Shit.

Jacket pocket.

No.

Rushing for no particular reason.

That’s how it is.

That’s how it’s always been.

That’s how it always will be.

Front door knob?

As always. Goddamnit Izaak.

AltaLoma 1:08pm

Reminding you to eat your cereal with a fork and to do your homework in the dark.

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