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The word “striking” has multiple meanings, both beautiful and violent.  I might tell you your beauty is striking; although subjective, I seem to think you’re favorable. 
“Nothing is me” Mundane says Universal nature chants “my life acquiescence" in blooming rays.
The cold side of a pillow  is magic, waiting to happen  The condensation of a coke can is disturbing in drips The salt of the air
Education   Boredom slowly creeps upon me, Like a fog on top a hill. My eyes start glazing over,
my eyes stretch the horizon... the cigarette burns quicker as I drag the smoke deeper in my lungs   I ponder the events of this week my wanderings, where are you?
We could be so busy so consumed by the world around us the trivial matters the mistakes and arguments and resentments we could be consumed And drained by the mundane every day life     
They go through their motions numbly Like stiff, rickety robots without a care They move through their actions dumbly  Like they could honestly be anywhere Yet here I stand watching them numbly 
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