A Collection of Spectacles

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Yesterday was a day dedicated to nostalgia. I haven’t thought about that fucking place in ages. A large portion of who I am is always going to be thankful for shows and good people. My life is going to be alright, and I am going to be happy. I need to keep trying to convince myself of this. I’m losing my passionate edge. I’m finding a funny kind of complacency inside this weird halfway house between loneliness and its opposite, whatever that is. There’s nothing I can do about anything, if I’m going to be completely honest, anyway. I project too far ahead, and it’s awful. It fosters anxiety and bitterness towards things that can’t be controlled.

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