to the amorphous ambiguous "you", who still seems interested in my life despite the sheer inertia that has recently defined it. this is for you.
in a cliched manner: the more things change the more they stay the same. perhaps this is what you are waiting to hear? perhaps it isn't. maybe you should just tell me what it is.
i think i'm done being depressed. it's just a blend of fear and boredom now. why don't you tell me about what you're up to?
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