Then I might get just a little bit “walk down the hall of mirrors” with it. Yes, yes, I know it feels like it’s too hard. But you deal this up every time we land here. Let’s just look back on it all for twenty-seven seconds. The shittiest days have always led somewhere. Haven’t they? Last week we fretted all Saturday morning and it was a glorious day and we got paralyzed on the lounge-room floor and it was all such a waste of a glorious day. I know. I was there. And the fretting got worse and tighter. Until we cried. And it all felt good. And we realized we hadn’t cried for the bigness of life
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