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i am dying slowly, and coming back to life slowly.

each day is a struggle of karma, each moment a breath closer to my death, and closer to the beginning of the rest of my life. each day i wonder if the glass is half full or half empty, whether today will be my day to get a flat tire, or if i'm lucky again. the yin has lost it's yang and again the half-wheel goes crashing from light into darkness. we shall see what this life has yeilded, whether it be fruit or briars.