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  • It sits there next to the shed, collecting rust. It has quiet the collection going by this time. It used to be part of... something, but no one remembers anymore. So it sits there, useless, and forgotten.

    But you know something interesting about that pile of junk?

    It used to be valuable. It used to have a job, and it performed it better than any tool of its kind.

    But now it's useless...

    If you think about it, we can be the same way. We once were the perfect fit. We performed with excellence, comparable with few. We were the elite, and the well spoken.

    Then somehow, over time. We become useless. We didn't even realize our own disease that ate away at us as we performed. We lacked the willingness to change, to adapt, and to keep moving. We have to keep moving, or we become slow and we will adopt the same hobby as my old machinery friends there..

    Rust collecting..

    This machinery had definitely seen its last days, but I refuse to let my story meld with its. I move forward, I brush off the rust that may have collected while I lay still in my stupor. I look to the future and I move with it, and I leave this junk behind.
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