The end of the year is fast approaching, with a little more than 24 hours left. Why are we so bound by time? As if somehow a little more than 24 hours from now I, like Cinderella will manically change. Almost a month into the 39th year of my life, and I have become very introspective. Attempting to diagnosis myself, so I can make grand proclamations about how I will change next year. I will stand outside like a squire from the days of knights, tournaments, jousting, and men in tights.
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