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             The gas tank is leaking but it’s raining, so I’m putting off fixing it again,
             and there’s that letter I promised myself I’d write, but how many ways do you
decorate the same feelings with words,
             and my belly is rebelling against that forced march of pizza upon it last night,
             and being with friends and being alone come to seem like different sides of the
same coin,
             and I’m drinking too much coffee,
             and worrying about money, and moving, and the incompletion that I feel,
             and God works in wondrous ways.