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...seemed like a turning point.
Last night I dreamt I was thirty-four again. It really wasn’t so long ago, a pleasant age to be. I had just enough life experience, which would soon lend itself nicely to uncovering the wisdom I’d need for the remainder of my life. Also when I was thirty-four, the tide had already begun to turn on our Twentieth Century illusions and was headed back out to sea. I think I knew by thirty-four, and maybe even earlier at the tender age of thirty-two, my radical but ordinary odyssey was only just beginning.
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