As I flipped through the old album of yours
I know we are not alike in characters and qualities.
You are 'catered' by a mob of happening people
Who offer you jars of laughter
and pots of hilarious métier.
Unlike me,
I'm wasting my days,
away from the hustle and bustle of the big crowds
all alone, monotonously.
I wish I could be you.
The distinction between past, present, and future is only a stubbornly persistent illusion.
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