without love we perish

Sunday, December 31

I don't know what to do or how to deal with it.
Sometimes, you just get sick of being the way you are, even though you know you're not in the wrong.
Break out of it, man.
Nothing is going to happen.
Gotta knock some sense into my head.
Take a walk.
A long one.
Come back a new man.
Or the same one.

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