Years ago (pause to think of a substantial memory), when I was (young, naive, optimistic?) more fun to be around, I had this idea that things had a way of working themselves out. If this were true, (pause to think of example) you could dismantle a wristwatch, throw all of the pieces into the air, and, when it landed, expect it to reassemble perfectly to form a fully functional working timepiece. Laying awake in bed, at this junction in my life, I still can't help but ask myself: "Where am I?"
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