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Grey
Sunday blessed with crisp chill air, blessed with sleeping in ‘til ten, blessed
with wide open doors and windows, blessed with lack of work for a few hours,
blessed with heart feeling good, blessed with so fuckin’ much even though it
feels like work work work trifle trifle trifle. These moments to catch your
breath, then breathe deep, and recharge the heart while the tide is low, to get
yourself right before the tide inevitably rises again and you’re ripped back
into fighting sideways to get back onto shore, lungs getting short and putting
fist grip around heart muscle, and ahhh that anxiety... not today, not right
now. It will come again, as sure as the moon, despite all our advances as
humans we can’t out-manufacture the natural ebb-and-flow of up-and-down and
what comes around goes around. Blessed right now with peace, slowed down life
for the afternoon, so fuck it. Put that on my tombstone – fuck it.
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