what would you like for breakfast? a miracle. reading seeing, hearing their words, filling me up on my absence, so short in real time. life goes on within me and without me. young people speaking their minds, and everything else in sight. oh the eloquence, almost painful to behold, this young thinkers club, alternative and subcultured. me and my mainstream mind. whitewashed, acid washed, faded black and blue. peeling paint off old worn shoes, reminders of younger times, twisting through my fingers, gone to the current. grey matter, grey area tiptoeing between extremes. come and gone my feelings, so strung up and strong. intoxicating, sobering, making me feel nautious. my head is reeling, churning before the sea of sentiment. unanswered questions left on the broken shores of yesterday. i am lost at ocean. lost
in forever. signing out for now.
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