Is it weird to be tripped out about the fact that if I live long enough, I will no longer own my favorite pair of shoes? And not only will I not own them, I will have no recollection of owning them, and won't remember to miss them.It's as if we live a million life times within our time on earth, and all of them are filled with different friends, different thoughts, different hopes, different goals, different dreams, and different shoes.
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