You don’t ask about my grand plans in life.

Too many ask me.

How I got here too, 
as if knowing unlocks magic.

Maybe it will, maybe I should tell them.

I don’t respond.

It’s too much.

A year has only just passed. It’s too much.

I have no plans.
Tomorrow is a mystery.
My life is a lottery.

Written September 11, 2019 at 2:33 AM

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