Today, Pa, Mo and Shirley are going out for a drink, something that I haven't done with anyone in a few months. I don't know where I belong in the state of the world. In all the pathos, chaos, confusion and the interminable loneliness, I don't know the exact definition of me. Brownian motion is my life - I bang into people for brief moments, but we never connect, never move together. If the world is a collection of jars of different solids, then I must be a gas particle.
Some people are like solids.
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