The storm passes, and the pool opens. The resort livens up again, despite the chill of the wind, despite the deadlines on your brow, your remote work setup on the 18th floor balcony leaves much to be desired – work ethic, most of all. How can there be work when there are palm trees? How can there be reality when there is suspension. You think you could live an entire life like this, and it occurs to you that you do.
You know there was a time you struggled even to put air in your lungs. But it seems so long ago now, it seems so impossible in contrast to how the air twirls through you now, how the sun seems to rise in your eyes.
I know there was a time life seemed a cruel joke.
But that time is not now.
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