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Sometimes it moves at lightning speed. Sometimes it completely stops. These days it is definitely slower than it should be, moving like molasses in January. When time moves like this, it gives rise to feelings of being unsettled. Nothing is comfortable. Nothing feels stable. Nothing feels permanent.

The minutes in the day feel excessive. I’m unsure how or why to spend them. I continue to function but in a detached sort of way. I don’t want to be here, but I don’t really know where I want to be.

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