i remember when the world was smaller and my goals much less lofty. there was a certain ease in believing my life mattered only as far as i could throw it. there was pleasure in finding my only joy in the sun on my skin. the afternoons were filled with barefoot walks through grass wearing nothing but shorts, followed by inhaling large slurpees with expressed brain-freeze intent. but back then i owned the world because the world needed an owner and everyone was too caught up in their own crap to

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