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End

I’m back on the schedule at SeaWorld, but it feels like a bittersweet return. The position is seasonal, and with February looming closer every day, I can’t shake the feeling that time is slipping through my fingers faster than I ever anticipated. It’s like no matter how hard I try, everything keeps getting taken away from me, over and over again. I’m exhausted—not just physically, but emotionally—tired of rebuilding only to watch things fall apart. The clock is ticking, and I’m standing here, desperately trying to hold on to something solid, but it feels like the universe keeps pulling the rug out from under me.









































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