.
.
So much seen. So much done. So many lost. So much lost.
Music. It's often how I speak anymore. A few things are on my mind and something else is digging it's way out. For now just these. Nothing too hard to handle, unlike me. Mostly.
I know the point, but not if there is a point to the point. There it is. There is something at the corner of my eye, staying just out of focus. I am not sure I wish to catch it, but that isn't always a choice. The past, like a cat, will approach as it chooses. Even as aware as I remain I can't always be sure what next. Later.
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