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  • Sometimes you get too busy to think about things. You remove yourself from yourself almost and become a machine, endlessly working towards a goal, a purpose, an end game that tends to lead to external happiness.

    But it's the internal happiness that gets all left behind and lonely, yearning for attention, craving an original thought, a philosophical attitude. You embrace the physical, become mindless, talking about things that matter, but don't really 'matter'.

    And if I'm going to be honest, the clocks drive ahead of you, and time doesn't give you an inch, and suddenly you are three weeks down the line and you're asking yourself the same questions as before.

    Yet, you stay optimistic.

    You also read a story, see your name, and find it funny, because the only stories you find time for anymore are the stories she writes, the life she leads, because it seems a little more real and relatable that anybody elses. You also want her to know that guilt is fulfilling in time, because it allows one to move on, and that whatever decision she makes should be for her internal happiness, not her external.

    You then decide to take your own advice.
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