I am between the lines where words do not exist; are just not evoked or provoked. I don't know how to feel, and often wish I didn't have to.
These days everything has a confusing edge if they even have substance at all. These days I live in a world of extremes and defiance. In empty days of summer, and I don't know who to turn to to do something about that.
But tomorrow is a curious day, always a curious day. It is always going to be a curious day, and I am always going to meander towards curious tomorrows.
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