The comforts of routine

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The comforts of routine are most likely what all species living on this rock strive for. I don’t think brain size plays any role in this commonality that links the multitudes of species. From ants in the forest to uncles in the den, even older brothers who’ll punch till you “say when”.

I dream of the days when routine was bothersome. Nostalgia is often more bitter than sweet.

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