I love being a grownup.
Sometimes I listen to the same song over and over, all day.
Sometimes I do laundry on a friday night, and go to bed early.
Sometimes I stay up half the night to read poetry.
I name everything in sight.
I put the coffeemaker on the bedside table.
I talk to strangers.
And thats all the explanation I have or feel obligated to offer.
Because I want to. And I can.
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