Every time I meet a new person I feel like I have the choice of lying and trying to pretend to be normal and then losing them because I was being false and pretentious. Or I have the choice of being unique, hard to explain, and damaged in which case most people won't want to relate. Beauty, popularity, and natural positivity are often cards you are dealt at birth sure it's all about how you play your cards but as we age negative rut digging instincts tend to get deeper and all an old gambler can hope for is to die peacefully in his sleep. (Generally speaking, I'm okay and this year is going better than the last) Sometimes I taste hope in the air but it's a risk to believe in anything and I'm getting too old to pick up my own pieces after a shattered sugar-coated false hope. Romance is dead and independent adulting is difficult. I suppose playtime is over and everyone my age is doing it for their children and being an adult means God doesn't give us anything for free anymore it's hard to begin to search for anything that might actually fit working in the service industry means I am surrounded heavens' I will never get into or hells we have to tolerate. Purgatory for the middle-aged man is hard to find most of the time people's moment carries them forward for better or worse at this age. I suppose I should be thankful for what nice scenery and emotional patience is the hardest lesson for a hyper-intellectual geek who has forgotten more from school than most will ever learn its sad to think of all the lost brain cells.
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