not looking the way we want to at all having said things we wished we hadn't while having done crazy things we absolutely didn't want to do and completely neglecting to dosay that which was so direly necessary not knowing who is thinking of you right this moment in love or hate (probably no one) no idea who your friends may be your future seems almost as immutable as your past both of which seem rather point less you pull the covers to your chin swearing you'll remember to kick off the revolt first thing in the morning perhaps hoping you'll awaken in some one else's life and you manage to keep your eyes shut as your senses die (though your thoughts regettably do not) and wouldn't you know it you go and stumble into tomorrow
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