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2014-10-15 - 8:07 p.m. bench warmer. it's a slippery slope, anymore. The words are barely mine, they have reference and context. I can't. I won't. I'm not. It's happening and I'm not fighting it. I am telling myself not to fight it, to let it happen. what's left of me is in there, somewhere, but it's a dark place. I did what I loved until I couldn't. I thought I was enough, but it's never enough. And I can't stop it. It just keeps going and forging ahead. then I realize how much I will matter when it's over. So why should I care?
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