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I’m looking for metaphors everywhere. I’m hoping for patterns, which will emerge from the daily cacophony, and indicate that everything will be all right. I’m desperate for a message and my distractions gravitate towards the worlds of underdogs. I’m seeking the loophole of quantum mechanics when statistically impossible manifests so that entropy could cease, reverse itself, and heal. I’m smoking cigarettes and staring into the clouds wondering whether she’s there already.