What is out there for you,
When all you have is what you have,
With nothing to do,
With nothing that saves you from the precipice,
Of going just a little too far,
And sticking out your neck a little too much,
So that people see who you are,
And offer you the ability,
To change everything around you,
Again and again and again, again,
Until there is nothing new,
Only alright,
Because consistency breeds ennui,
And nothing bores you more than constant change,
And uncertainty.
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