It has begun. Another sunrise has come and ended with just another sunset, and so will be the pattern long after this physical blob of mechanicalized cells and tissues has gone. I'm tired, my mind has become weary of things that are held in high regard by many, and I'm sick to death of seeing the same things that have filled my life even to this
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Thanks for the advice, even further... but I'm not one who can control that. Even when I don't read, but a little into things, I still end up with that same pensive attitude as before. That's why I listen to music. I can sit and dwell on things, and no matter what I am thinking about, it's always got a purpose, a cause and effect, and a reason for why I feel good. Maybe I've thought about enough things to be happy, maybe I've just thought about the right things... but in all events, I am, enough anyway, content enough to carry on. ;)
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