I should revel. If this my destiny I have to stop wallowing. It’s time to make the most of the mess I made. Silver linings. Like time to write, to stare into the looking glass. Deep within is my true self. These words will take me to it.
Lovers in swan shaped boats paddle along the canal. The late afternoon sun shimmers on the surface. Hordes of people wander the banks in various states of undress. They walk dogs and hold hands and hurriedly eat ice cream before it drips down the cone. Simple pleasures cure the lives we lead.
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