Perspectives, if that is what you call these

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This is just the usual me thinking about unusual things,
trying to make peace with my heterogenous pieces,
wondering if whatever I am made of is genuine,
taking life one moment at a time, one day at a time,
not picturing how would it be if I was still the old me,
not peeking into how would it be if I renew my current self,
just being, remaining, relieving myself of the burden of not
having to think,
just getting acquainted with me a bit more than before,
maybe I never had the time for this or possibly the patience,
but now I am ready to think about anything under the stars,
I am ready to think about life and lifelessness, about magic
and the ordinary,
I am already thinking why I am alive, what could it be that
I am here to attain or maybe nothing,
What could it be that makes me more human than anything
else, than anybody else,
I ask, I answer, I comprehend, I run, I walk, I dream, I fear,
I possess, I let go, I think, I think, I think on.

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