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My mind has been on the slugs as I’m smoking green tea watching the rain fall in Seattle, does anything grow in Autumn? All I see are slow fades and bright colors, my eyes shift when I ain’t wearing my boots because my feet slip too easy on these wet leaves, I’m leaving, I think, but then I run into a new girl and she speaks in poetry and looks like a celebrity and I’m stunned, we’re dating, I’m staying I guess, this is all still a prayer I guess. It’s now seven in the morning and already I’m working/hustling to pay off debts looking in the past when my entire body is aching towards the future, and presently I’m sitting on my ass, I need a walk. I need to reassess where my dreams lie because my pillow is cold every night. Jesus Christ your name still feels like honey on my lips though bitterness in my stomach, where have you gone? I’m here still in Seattle, still waiting and running through snow exhausted thinking that there’s gotta be a better way but I might be blind because I see nothing. I am not yet in the flow.

Is this a good metaphor? I can’t tell if it’s hitting or not

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