Again I sit here in the newborn hour of this Monday. I find it so interesting that I come here everyday despite the good or the bad. I find myself in a hallway of doors. Each door is numbered accordingly starting at 1. As I open doors, shut them, and proceed to the next I find myself having a very real memory; one that I can with no shadow of a doubt say I experienced. In these my newest years I find more and more of what I remembered was me I still remember. I know that people go through changes and find new things in both the concrete and fluid abstract; still, the mere thought that on a daily basis I forget even more of who I was and come to better know my reclusive actions have not found me some peace I sought out; just merely an empty shell with nothing to control left inside because of sedation due to belief that the world will never be on my side: so become numb and ride the ride to the end; don't attach, empathize, care, or watch.
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