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I was old when I was a toddler; my mom called me "Wise Eyes" though I do bear in mind she was mentally disordered at the time.

I've been told I've lived more lives in one than is physically possible, and I suppose compared to most Americans, that's true, but compared to people around the globe living in war-torn places and other sordid and sorry situations, I'm not so much privileged as protected from more harm than I realize.

When I'm relatively well--as I was last year at this time, I feel and look 10 years younger than my physical self, but I'm always worn out, I think that is apt; at the core though I am so child-like--yet often childish.

I'm working on an honest assessment: this body isn't holding up--in terms of functioning, too well, so I have to give it more care than I got early in life, and I'm working on improving on the faulty start.

My heart, however? I keep working to open it a wee bit wider. And today I made some progress.
 
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