Dreaming is my hobby. Working out the alternative path I could have been treading upon looks like a sustainable, fitting ritual to kill the time I can afford to spend on doing nothing. It comes at no cost, requires no extraordinary force for it to work its magic and more significantly, it keeps me alive.
But when, when am I going to wake up and plant my feet on firm and real grounds and to come to terms with the genuine superficiality all humans conform to?
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