Set on forming some tired and cliched existential mantra into digital ones and zeros so as to compete with the immensities of crap already on the internet, I write this the first entry to this blog, soy temporal. I am temporary as the distance between what I was and what I am flux with every perceptible unit of time. I am temporary when the pragmatism of the present hollows out the ideals of the past and co-opts the dreams of the future, until all I am left with is shallow memories and a commitment to continuity. I work in a job I hate in the hope it will get me somewhere better. I work in a job I hate because it pays the bills. I work in a job that I hate because I lack the imagination to leave.
This is temporary. Five years of this same shit and I tell myself this is temporary.
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