sometimes you can just get out of bed and pretend you are not dying.
you get up and have a shower and brush your teeth and then put on some pants and a shirt and you head out the door and the air is fresh and you engage with the city by leaping puddles and bolting through the people with slushy feet and wind blown cheeks and you sit down with your coffee and your breakfast comes and you die again.
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1 comment:
it's a tough feeling.
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