The answers are gone;
We looked everywhere.
Sometimes I try to figure out what people do when they are alone. Do they do the same things that I do? Sometimes I feel that a flame has been lit in my chest. A slow burning away of those stale layers. And then it doesn't matter that I can't see the future. Every day is revealed and leaves just enough mystery to want to go on. An opaque veil of time lies ahead of me. I get fantasies about the coming days, but they never turn out like I had imagined they would.
Lately I've been looking in the mirror and there is a girl staring back at me whose emotions are hidden behind a thick layer of skin. I've been noticing how raw everyone is underneath their masks and it is comforting. We are all just complex twisting knots of feeling, rotten and pure.
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