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I used to be so concerned about wasted time. I would lay in bed each night and scrutinize my day. Like I was the appointed judge of my own life, always ready to dole out mental punishments on myself. I’d replay my schedule – minute by minute, analyzing. Where could I fit in more? Where
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I saw you yesterdayfor the first time in a long timeI thought by nowI would be able to walk by, look you in your golden eyesand feel fineInstead, my body reactsas if it’s in its final momentsas if you’re the hunterand I am the fleeing rabbitMy heart raps at my sternuma rhythmic, forceful poundingshuttering my
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Life lately feels like a growing list of “oh wells” The car broke again- oh wellRejected from the 20th job this week- oh wellDog shit on the floor again- oh well Can’t nail down a relationship to save my life- oh wellNeighbors woke me up at 430am for the 17th day in a row- oh
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I took a few days off, saw this prompt and had to chuckle. Remembering life before the internet is why I take breaks from it sometimes. Some weeks I get so caught up in typing away, blogging, Instagram, TikTok, I’ll sit back and realize I’ve lost giant chunks of my day tootling around online. And





