02-28-2026
©2026 BTMT-TJ
Some days pass so quickly
I can barely remember living inside them.
They look full on the outside.
Productive. Busy. Important.
However, when I sit quietly at night
and try to recall what I actually felt,
there is nothing distinct.
Just movement.
Just completion.
Just crossing things off.
I think that is what rushing does.
It replaces feeling with finishing.
.
.
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