Slowly we are stepping into our new skins. They are the ones we made fun of in high school, revered when we were children, ignored for the most part
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Waiting in the ranks to advance, out in the shadows, eyes intent on those in the middle. Watch me shine, watch me fly, this is my gift
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Everyone tries to build themselves up, telling themselves they won't die, they won't fail, they can't stop here, they won't fall, they won't err
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I'm just working towards the 'end'. The 'end' being the finish, the submission, the tap. There are all these movements between the start and the finish and I want to know them all. I want to know every single step and move with a confidence that on the outside displays simplicity, but to the person in 'the thick' of things, it is a storm.
"What have we become?", I think to myself as I write this. With a belly full of almonds and bananas, I ponder this question. "What have we become?", I say it outloud, in my head and then outloud again
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