I'm a warm body to occupy a seat on certain days during particular hours. I'm no more different than the Stay In Lane sign I speed past on certain days during particular hours. I am not wired to think of weeks. I'm galactically dense on how to view life as 3 squares, 6 packs, 9 lies, 12 gates. Hard to be grounded when all is up in the air. The pair of dimes I keep in my pocket lets me know what's real. I've got my lucky scars to thank for that.
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Posted in Gratitude, Identity, Luck, Moments, Mystery, Observations, Perception, Reality, Scars, Self, Solitude, The Journey, Time, Truth, Work
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