Trying to hold on to the innocence I’m not sure I ever had.  Having lost it is a tragedy, but if I never had it, it’s not so bad.

Standing in the quicksand known as a bland existence.  Look around and it seems like those beside me have given up on the resistance.

Are these dreams foreshadowing what is to come, or are they memories of things that will never be done?

I sit here trying to digest all that I’ve been fed.  Am I taking in the same things that have left so many for dead?

Making progress right back to the place I started, which isn’t so bad but it seems my company has all departed.

Everyone started off wanting to be different, striving for something a little more than “significant”.

Taking bits and pieces of others to develop my own sense of self.  Yep, I’m just like everybody else.

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