Why do we think it a full life when I do little but much is done to me?
Why do we think it an empty life when I do much but little is done to me?
Easier to stand in line, even if I don't know what for.
Easier to mute my mind, ever amused and used and bored.
Easier to hold onto what I've been handed.
Easier than making the effort to reach.
The struggles I struggle with are expectations.
The true villain is not time, but the clock.
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