Every night I come home from work, park either behind Donovan or in the street--depending on how early he must leave the next morning--and I march up to the door, sometimes carrying groceries, sometimes not. I unlock the door with my key, a tiny metal thing which means I'm invited, always, and most nights I am greeted by he rhythmical stomping of
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I made it up while I was driving home from work.
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And thanks! I'm glad to be happy, heh.
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The only way I have found to beat the system is to just trytrytry to be satisfied with the little wonders in life, and sometimes it works (like last night, when I wrote that entry), in fact it's been working a lot for me lately, but other times I can't shake the burning desire for something more--something that isn't even "real" in this world. I'm happy over all but damn it if I don't wish nearly every day I lived in a story book. Sometimes I'm even scared that if I spend all my time trying to just be happy with the way things are, I may regret later that I didn't seek out something more. I hope you find a way to realize it and make it happen.
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