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Jul. 3rd, 2012 | 05:20 pm

Frustration that amounts to nothing.
Activities to sustain oneself through the day.
Mind on auto-pilot.
Nothing is challenged, this lazy equilibrium, this stale summer air, blazing and burning.
Sipping once-cold lemon tea,
While the leaves make the most of the sun, even if it scalds them.
My pointless, trickling days cannot even be described as 'existential'.
Shrinking from tangled thoughts. The ball of woolly plans, strategies, pleasures, contemplation rolling itself bigger and bigger.
Till the day comes where you face some definite threat that takes shape before your eyes.
Till the day comes where you can no longer safely say you are safe in the hands of others.
Until then.

- - - - -
I can stare outside for as long as I want to and nothing will happen.

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