As I go throughout my day, I have a continuous inner-monologue playing. Occasionally monologues are created for people that I am not. Example:
I think of things, my dear. I think of them when you close your eyes at night and I lay there, and it occurs to me that I am the closest to you and furthest away that I will ever be, at the same time. And then I remember that I will never sleep and that the world spins faster than I move and I remember that Thanksgiving dinner is at your mother's house this year and-- well it all appears again, everything that was and nothing that will be and I know that I'll be okay. Yes, I spend most of the time just thinking of things.
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