Reserving juice for the the next few hours. We're gonna write a new world now, tucked in the sidelines and dark as hell, but you would recognize it if you saw it in a crowd of train passengers.
Perhaps this is all I am and that's okay. I spent the entire massage session yesterday wide awake, thinking about my life, and somewhere in the middle of it grew tired, spontaneously, like my life was not something of monumental importance.
That's one clue.
The truth is you can't give anything to the world that you're not generating inside yourself. And so perhaps our real work is finding in ourselves that which will make us happy. And then we have the slightest chance.
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