Eventually you just get used to it. The life becoming a nonstop reality of checking e-mails and waiting, the passing endless empty, nondescript and ominous buildings, the girls walking around in the tight pants and acting as if they are wearing actual clothes — it all gets tucked away, and like a squirrel, you get your little acorn of truth, your mission of the day. And you missed things — you missed opportunities, you missed achievements and you missed groups of people getting high, expressionless faces like the one you always wanted to have. But this is just part of life. And maybe the “missing” is the true essence of the situation anyway, like how if you pick up a petal and it’s too heartbreakingly beautiful, it crumbles in your hands.