Oh the slow sadness that comes with being contemplative and alive. Knowing the weaknesses of yourself and those around you as akin to knowing how and when exactly you're all going to die. Weaknesses, is too wrong a word.
Time is this strange thing that surrounds, and for some reason I see it all at once, and nothing ever surprises me. There are these beautiful moments and they are all the same, perhaps it's just my mood but nothing seems long ago, and nothing seems recent, and nothing in particular will happen and--
There was something I wanted to do when I walked in this door, I was looking forward to it and now I feel like I'm missing something, what was it? Oh. I wanted to smoke. I wanted to smoke a cigarette. Oh, it feels good, to smoke right now.
Time is this strange thing that surrounds, and for some reason I see it all at once, and nothing ever surprises me. There are these beautiful moments and they are all the same, perhaps it's just my mood but nothing seems long ago, and nothing seems recent, and nothing in particular will happen and--
There was something I wanted to do when I walked in this door, I was looking forward to it and now I feel like I'm missing something, what was it? Oh. I wanted to smoke. I wanted to smoke a cigarette. Oh, it feels good, to smoke right now.
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