loose lips sink ships
i was hoping you would forget.
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Everything is Just Fine
I once had this theory, that Time pushes us all to averages (which is a nice way to say mediocrity): rather, the passage of time in the presence of apathy smooths even the sharpest of ambition.
The rough transition between the heightened sense of awareness sculpted over a race weekend and this rude, reintegration with the auto-dulling office routine (viva! vida cubano), resolutely underscores just how far from focus my surroundings have fallen. Silently, effortlessly, I fall instep, sleepwalking the fuzzy detachment from the machinations of life.
Suddenly, it dawns on me, perhaps the surroundings are Just Fine, and it's I who've lost focus. Of course, close friends have been saying this for awhile, and I've always passively shrugged it off in agreement. But now, only now, can I feel it like sharp steel on my chest. Change must come soon.
Where are my maps, it's time for a roadtrip.
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