Today I'm tired, icky, and full of longing. It's the kind of day where I want to cry, but lack a reason, where you feel like the heroine of a movie right before the climax. And you pretend like it's any other day, even though your heart is full of echoes and your feet are filled with wandering. And you wonder about things that frighten you more than failure, about emptiness and contentment, and if purpose is elusive or simply intangible, and if understanding it is important at all. The kind of day where the cool wind is more a part of you than your tired body.
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