A long days journey into night

oboy. if i could write a title like that, i'd be a happy man.
but, wait. i Am a happy man. (albeit, hungover, mortally tired, raspy in the throat,...)
does that mean i can write that title.
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it's such a great title. i feel likt that's all this day will be. a slow move, a slow motion sequence from a film. watching "this life", an old bbc series. effing amazing. real. good drama. great acting.
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'I did not regularly watch This Life, but I caught the final episode and was appalled at the drugs, booze and worst of all, simulated sex between homosexuals... We should complain more often and perhaps our comments would have some weight in preventing such trash being shown.' :Daily Mail

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and the light of day is passing by without me. but not unnoticed. it looks like a beautiful day. but people like me stay in. watching tv. feeling better. eating yesterdays crisps, drinking yesterdays cola.
and people like my girlfriend work all day. taking care of people who can't take care of themselves.
who are the people who deal with these days. make them go past. what am i talking about?
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lunch is looking like a good idea. but then again. the couch is very comfy, and i think i have an episode or two left on the disc.
i thoroughly enjoy this kind of day. except for the feeling that i could've done more with it. this constant pressure of maximising. never wasting a sinlge hour. a single minute. so much i could've done today. and yet, all i look forward to is to go to bed. to sleep. perchance to dream. my dreams have been weird and real lately, so that's an adventure.
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