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Gratis billeder : træ, klippe, afdeling, struktur, bagagerum, væg, formation, jord, mursten, tømmer, materiale, inmybackyard, oldtidshistorie, woody plante 2400x1800

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A friend called tonight. Do you ever have that sense immediately that something serious is buried in a "hello"? How long it takes (or does not) some people to allow that out? I was in a "rush" to be a place I was supposed to be. Was that really important? A good friend of this friend, someone I only met once, someone I heard had been living in real pain, long pain, had given in to that pain. And then chose to go to the place where there was no more pain. And here I sit at night, dumfounded by all the things I had fabricated to be so important, the things that I thought made me irate, the stupid sense of indignation, the things that I thought were crashing down around me, and they all shrink away to nothingness. And yet that leaves me with... nothing. Except... That I want to stick around, and do this life better than I am doing it. Even if it is good, it can be better; even if it is better, it can be that much better. But I cannot expect to understand the darkness that makes this feel impossible. I thought I've been low, down low, but one never really knows how far (or close?) that bottom can be. Yet its not the first time a powerful emotion comes clear in the dark of the night, yet dims in daylight. Will I be the "same"? And I believe that one cannot help but change even the smallest Calculus amount of delta x, so that we are never never just "the same" for being here another day. Stick around, I will if you will.



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