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Surrounded by plenty of people in that wedding party doesn't seem to calm me down. Quite the opposite, it makes me feel anxious and somewhat uncomfortable. Not only because I don't know most of them, but because I am uncomfortable with this kind of party.

I get it, for people to recognize you as an important person, you have to show it. You have to flex your teeth and impress others, according to their standard of course.

This and that, whose and not. And as the glimmers glowing, each and everyone pull each other to the same goal. That happiness might be just that. That specific situation and access to people and a grand buffet.

It does suck me up, too, to a point. The idea seeps to my mind that I should pursue the same thing. That I am nothing without it. That I have no achievement.

After all, if you don't take a picture of it, it doesn't happen.

It felt like a dark shroud, clouding not only your mind but your soul. But as I drive away home on that Saturday night, time and wind slowly blow it away.

Turns out, I don't want high life that much. Coming to my home feels like a breeze. Carlos and Tokyo waiting on the door. Pish-Pish greets me on the terrace. And my tiny, corner space where I pour my tea and slowly savour time.

Time, surprisingly, is mine. It's the most generous gift the universe have for me.

Folie

by Folie

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