My slice is made up of the air I'm breathing since I can't seem to figure out how to do much better than just breathe. If I concentrate on relaxing, everything goes to the wayside, but at least I'm not stressing out on things I cannot change. Waiting is consuming my brain (if that's even possible). Nothing takes more precedence than embracing nervous waiting until I recognize I'm filling up space and time with nothing more than nothing and force myself to snap out of it. And even then, I'm not so sure about the depth of my interactions. I feel like I'm skimming the surface--sort of how ice skaters glide across only the very top layer--except this is so way not graceful, like, not at all.
I'm not sure if you get my drift on this one, but the air and ice are getting thin over here, so it's all I've got for now.
I'm not sure if you get my drift on this one, but the air and ice are getting thin over here, so it's all I've got for now.
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