The sky is blue, but it looks gray.
I am rested, but I feel tired.
So many are healthy, but so many are sick.
The shoes are the right color, but they don't fit.
I think I'm on the right road, but I can't make a left.
I want to cry, but the well is dry.
Stalled. Sinking. Hanging on. This too shall pass. Hurry.
BETWEEN THE LINES
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