“I know the way this will go.
Every day will be like the next one and the last one. Slowly I will shirk childhood and prolonged adolescence, rent an apartment, pay my bills, pay off debt. My world will be empty except for the skeleton of a structured routine, enough to keep me tethered and lost. I will sit, alone, by a window in an armchair I paid too much for and watch the seasons go past. Time will move and I will think, over and over again, is this all there is, is this all there is, is this all there is…”
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