Backtrack to the 28th

Can this month go any slower? I slam my first real car in a pole and time pops a dozen chill pills. Enjoying the moment is one thing but I’m not. Waiting for my bike licence with a big lug for transport is eating my soul, moral shred by decent morsel. It could be worse, I mean I could have died a fresh young man and not a withered youngish man.

Just waiting, stationary while life goes on at this drugged pace with little to no regard for wants or desires. A flattering description of this world can be forced upon all souls but in reality nobody really cares and if they do they have a strange way of showing it.

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